


Even If It Costs Me My Life

by kayely (kayely88)



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Dreams, Ernesto is a jerk, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Fluff and Angst, History, Imelda Has Suspicions, Imelda versus Ernesto, Love, Memories, Mild Sexual Content, Music, Pre-Canon, Saving a Life, Slow Burn, doubts, fears, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 01:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17633867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayely88/pseuds/kayely
Summary: It was only a nightmare, at least that's what Imelda thinks. And yet, she can't help but shake the ominous feeling that something is wrong with Hector. The letters have stopped coming. The doubts and mistrust are only growing wilder in her heart. Hector would never leave her? Would he?Hector said he would come home, he promised he would. But what if something terrible is on the horizon? What if Imelda will lose him forever?Imelda is going to stop at nothing to lose her husband, even if it costs her her life.





	1. Last Night It Seemed, That I Dreamed About You

**Author's Note:**

> Small Intro: This is my first Coco work. I haven't written a fandom work in over ten years, that's a really long time. But I'm really excited to dive into this endeavor. This story has struck an emotional chord with me that I can't even begin to explain. I feel like I got a late start in this fandom and I've already read some fantastic stories relating to Coco. I've always wondered what about the 'what ifs' of situations and this story is no different. I hope you all enjoy my first attempt at a Coco story.

Héctor. He was hurting. He was in pain. Something was terribly wrong. She couldn’t reach him, couldn’t touch him, couldn’t hear his grunt of pain as he held his stomach. Nor did he hear her cries as he fell on the dirt road. Imelda thrashed to get to him but she could feel something holding her back, she screamed and cried, kicked and wailed wishing she could get to her boot to defend herself form the caving darkness that wanted to shatter her world. She knew then, she knew Héctor was dying. 

“You understand this had to be done, I’m sorry amigo.” Imelda screamed hearing the voice, that voice. She knew of it, but couldn’t place it at that moment. Imelda felt the dirt give way underneath her feet and she started falling. 

In bed, Imelda shot up, her feet entangled in the sheet, her dark brown hair was matted to her sweat drenched forehead and neck, her nightgown was soaked. She gasped for air and looked at the empty spot next to her in bed. Her breathing still labored she touched the spot, it was cold as it had been for months. Imelda caught her breath and fanned the sheets out. She lay back down and grabbed his pillow, hugging it to her tighter. It had lost its scent of him weeks ago. 

“It was just a dream,” she whispered in the darkness, “A silly _pesadilla_.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure herself or the empty darkness. Her eyes wildly searched the room for anything evil but she knew there was nothing there. Her bedroom was silent. Imelda sighed and rolled over staring at the moonlight shining into her room. She thought of his face, Héctor, how she missed him. She missed him more than she anticipated, her defiant anger against his decision thawed after only two weeks. Now it ached her to be alone, going about her day without telling him how things were going. Imelda’s throbbing feeling of loneliness rested snug in her chest, without her husband to confide in, kiss, run her fingers through his unkempt hair, and listen to his playing and singing as she worked felt like the end of the world. At least there were the letters from him, a piece to treasure in his absence. But, even that had changed.

At first, Héctor wrote all the time, sending poems and drawings to Coco, words of love to Imelda and promises to return as well as any money he had made to spare. When Imelda last heard from him, he and Ernesto had just arrived in Mexico City and would be there for the next three weeks. But, it had been two weeks now. Two weeks. Imelda couldn’t help but think the worst. He had abandoned them, left her to raise their daughter alone, found someone new. Ernesto, ever the single man, had turned his head away from their little family. Imelda couldn’t help but feel sick to her stomach thinking of him having an affair. 

They hadn’t received a letter from Héctor in two weeks. They used to get one every other day it seemed. Imelda loved seeing Coco’s round face brighten with news from her Papá. And even Imelda found herself waiting with eagerness some days at the letter box. Stinging regret filled the hole that the nightmare caused, regrets over not fighting more to get him to stay. It had been tough the night before Héctor left. They argued, a bigger, louder and intense one they had ever had. Imelda cried, which she hardly ever did and Héctor tried to comfort without avail. Hector made his decision infuriating Imelda, she just wanted him to understand. She just wanted him to want what she wanted. And then Héctor said the words she never thought she’d hear, _I’ll quit music for you mi alma._

She scrunched her eyes closed now recalling the desperation and hurt in his voice. He was willing to do it but Imelda knew he would resent her and where would they be then? Imelda didn’t want him to give up on the love he had for performing, playing that guitar. Imelda looked up from his pillow and sighed. She told him to go, to do this because it was what he wanted, to play for the world. Despite the confusion on his face, the sadness, regret, maybe? Imelda had hoped. They came to an uneasy truce, he would go on this musician tour and when he got home, this subject would be discussed, long and seriously. Imelda didn’t know what to do if Héctor wouldn’t settle down. She didn’t want him to give up music, he was music, but she wanted him to realize what was most important which was his family. Her, Coco, him, they were a family. And Oscar and Felipe she corrected. 

Héctor seemed grateful at that decision and Imelda was hurt but she wouldn’t tell him that. They made up, made love and fell asleep in each other’s arms until the cold light of day pried him from her. She remembered staying strong for Coco. She kissed Héctor goodbye, wished him luck and told him she loved him. It wasn’t until that night she collapsed in tears in their bed holding his pillow and wondering if her marriage was strong enough to endure this. Imelda let cold hatred for his decision to settle into her bones. She wondered a lot of things about Hector that she had never questioned in the past. But after a few weeks the anger dulled and in its place settled a horrible feeling of sadness, loneliness, lamentation. She could only hope that Héctor was missing them, that his words were truthful. She had hoped so, despite the nagging voice of her mother in her head. _Selfish músico. He’s no good for you mija!_ How her mother despised Héctor ever since she brought him home. Her mother’s words had left enough power to make those thoughts about Héctor seem too real. 

Imelda let go of his pillow and rolled over onto her back to stare at the ceiling. And this dream, what was that about? She thought about it and gasped recalling the horrid events. Héctor collapsing in front of her, she couldn’t get to him, he was in pain, he was hurting. She couldn’t protect him. And that voice. The voice sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it. As Imelda thought about it, the more and more she couldn’t deny feeling a sinking foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach that filled her blood with ice. What if Héctor was in trouble? What if he was sick or hurt? What if that was the reason he hadn’t written. The terror she felt was unlike any other, the real possibility of losing the love of her life. Her skin prickled with goose bumps, her chest ached with sadness, her body felt rigid yet loose at the same time, she trembled at the thought of the dream. She had to do something; she wouldn’t live with herself without knowing if Héctor was all right.

Imelda clambered out of bed and hurriedly ran to her closet where the lone suitcase sat on the floor, the other one been taken by Héctor months prior. She pulled it out and threw it on the bed. Something told her she had to get to him. As she began throwing in dresses and other items she froze. _Coco_. She couldn’t leave her Coco. Mexico City was a good eight hour train ride away. She had never been that far from Coco before and she wasn’t sure she could. Imelda sat on the bed and stared at the wall. With shaking hands she pulled out a nightgown she haphazardly threw in the suitcase. It was the nightgown she was wearing the night she and Héctor had to say goodbye. She envisioned her husband’s face in pain and made up her mind.  
____________________________________________________________________________________

 

The sun was just cresting over the horizon when Imelda lugged the suitcase down the stairs. Oscar and Felipe would be up soon to get the orders ready. They would manage for two days or so without her. She glanced at the clock hoping to get on the first train to Mexico City. Imelda propped the suitcase against the table in the kitchen and went over the orders that would be done today. 

Before Héctor had left, Imelda proposed to him that she wanted to start her own business. Her Mamá and Papá before her were tailors, and her _Abuelita_ , Mamá Theresa was a dressmaker. She desired nothing more than making a name for herself. Héctor supported her decision and Imelda decided that, while she didn’t mind the tailor business, she wanted to do something more. Besides, she knew her mother wouldn’t leave her the business she had started. She began to think and knew that besides clothes, another thing a person needed was shoes. Shoes were a necessity and practical and there were many types so Imelda wouldn’t get bored with monotony. She enlisted her younger twin brothers, Oscar and Felipe, to help and they were more than willing. She ran the office, finances, the books, orders and all the formalities while she helped her brothers with the manufacturing. They were always quick to solve problems, tinker with machines to make the process go even quicker and they were good company during the day. While they were brand new and still working out the kinks, Imelda was hoping by the next year their business would be booming. Which made that money from Héctor so much better, it was their livelihood for now. 

Imelda scratched her head as she went over the logistics of her being gone for two days. If Felipe could deliver and Oscar could run things in the shop with Coco helping pick up discarded leather, Imelda figured they would be okay. Her business, the family business, they weren’t turning a huge profit yet but she was determined to succeed, she couldn’t fail. She had written to Héctor during his two week stint in Guadalajara to tell him of her new business and he wrote back saying how proud he was of her, so determined, so ambitious, a fire inside of her to achieve, prove her Mamá wrong. She laid everything out for the business on the table and was preparing coffee when the twins appeared in the kitchen.

“Imelda?” Oscar asked surprised seeing her standing before him in travel wear. 

“Where are you going?” Felipe asked just as stunned.

“You look like you’re-“

“-Going on a little trip.”

“Sí, I am,” Imelda said picking up her suitcase. Her younger twin brothers looked at her confused. She smiled reassuringly. “I need to go to Mexico City, its Héctor.”

The brothers stared at one another. “What do you mean it’s Héctor?” Felipe asked. 

“What about Coco?” Oscar asked peering up the stairs behind her. 

“Did you hear from Héctor?”

“I’m worried about Héctor, we haven’t heard from him in two weeks. I know my husband. That is not like him,” Imelda replied feeling the uneasiness of distrust bubble in her stomach. “And Coco will be fine. I’ll be gone two maybe three days.” 

“And the shop?” Oscar asked. She smiled at them knowingly and they stared at her in horror. 

“Oh no, you’re leaving us in charge?” Felipe asked horrified at the idea.

“How do you even trust us enough for that?” Oscar asked. She sighed, she didn’t but she didn’t have a choice.

“Now’s the time to prove me wrong,” Imelda responded strongly. She looked up the stairs behind her. “I need to say goodbye to Coco, promise her I will be home soon.” She knew it broke Coco’s heart when Héctor left months ago, having to tell Coco she was leaving now…she couldn’t even think about it. Oscar and Felipe didn’t like the way she said those words, too much hesitation, too much uncertainty. There would be no question she would be home, but the state she would be in when she arrived was more than her brothers could imagine. Would she be bereft with loss over Héctor or happily content with the idea that everything was just as it seemed? Héctor didn’t seem like the type of man who would abandoned his family, not when his own father abandoned him as a baby. Oscar and Felipe loved Héctor, he was a brother to them. They had given him their permission for Imelda’s hand when their own mother said no. The twin brothers were just worried, they had hoped Héctor hadn’t made a big mistake going away like this.  
________________________________________________________________________________________

Imelda pushed open the solid wooden door to Coco’s room. In the early daylight, Coco was sleeping soundly on her brass bed, snuggled up under the blankets, her doll rested in the crook of her arm. Imelda smiled gently and kneeled over her daughter kissing the thick head of black hair. Imelda admired her daughter more, how much Coco looked like him when she slept. Imelda ran her fingers through Coco’s hair and lay another kiss but this time on her cheek.

“Mija,” Imelda murmured gently. Coco stirred and Imelda watched as her dark brown eyes opened. 

“Mamá,” Coco said in her quiet little morning voice. Imelda snuggled against her daughter’s small form. “Are you going somewhere?” Imelda looked down at Coco’s curious eyes and then at her long skirt and long sleeved blouse. 

“Sí mija,” Imelda said sitting on the bed. “Coco, I need to go find Papá and bring him home.”

Coco smiled widely. “I knew Papá would be home soon! Will he be back by dinner?”

Imelda frowned. “No mija, soon though. Mamá must go to a big city, ten times the size of Santa Cecilia. I will find Papá and bring him home to us.” Imelda at least hoped so; she hoped she had enough in her to bring him back with her. Or that Hector would be willing to return. A thought she didn’t even want to fathom.

Coco lay there, her black hair draped across the pillow. She watched Imelda thoughtfully. “Is Papá sick?” Imelda thought back to her dream and it shook her to the core. His face, the pain. A nauseous ball clinched onto her stomach. 

“I’m sure he’s not but if he is, we can get him better,” Imelda assured her daughter. Coco smiled warmly.

“I will draw Papá some pictures. I can’t wait to see him!” Coco announced happily. Imelda smiled and kissed her daughter.

“And I’m sure he can’t wait to see you mija,” Imelda affirmed. “You be good for your Tíos, I’ll be home in a few days, I promise.” Coco hugged her mother tightly and Imelda kissed her again. She smiled and got up from the bed. 

“Mamá?” 

Imelda turned to see Coco facing her, her little legs dangling off the edge of the bed. “Will Papá come home for good?”

Imelda felt a flicker of disdain for her husband in the furthest depths of her chest. The reminder that Héctor made the choice he did, he chose to run off for months to perform in front of the adoring crowds. Despite the love she felt for her husband, she just couldn’t shake the anger. She couldn’t lie to Coco but she couldn’t tell her the truth either. She knew Coco missed Héctor terribly when he went away. She couldn’t fathom breaking her heart any more. Instead, Imelda smiled gently at her daughter.

“I hope he will my Coco.”  
________________________________________________________________________________________

“Imelda, will you be all right traveling alone? I mean, Mexico City is, well, a city,” Oscar stated as he escorted his older sister to the train station. “And it’s a far ride. You don’t know what could happen.”

_“Dios mío_ Oscar! I am a grown woman, with a child, I can take care of myself,” she snipped. “I’m going to retrieve my husband and bring him home.” 

“All because you think something is wrong? Or, is it, because you’re having doubts that you aren’t sure whether to believe or not?” Oscar asked. Imelda stopped and looked up at her younger brother. He stared at her; his eyebrows rose studying her face. “Imelda, Héctor wouldn’t do anything to disgrace you.” He hesitated. “Or abandon you.”

Imelda felt her face fall. She had to tell someone, she couldn’t lie about this. Someone needed to know why she was heading out to find Hector. Oscar watched her patiently and Imelda sighed. “I had a dream, about Héctor, a nightmare, actually.” Oscar swallowed a lump in his throat watching his sister’s calm face turn into desperation. “I’m worried that something has happened to him, whether that he’s sick or injured or, who knows what. I’m not coming out and assuming he is having an affair or that he abandoned us.” Although, she had to admit, the thought did cross her mind once or twice in the last twelve hours. 

Oscar nodded as he pulled his sister into his embrace. “Then you go find him and bring him home. Please be careful.”

“If he comes home,” Imelda quietly admitted. Oscar kneeled down to look into her eyes. He knew what his sister was thinking, the thoughts their mother put in her head years ago. _Good for nothing músico._

“Imelda, he will come home. Don’t let Mamá get the best of you. He will not abandon you for music. He loves you and Coco too much,” Oscar affirmed. 

“Then why did he leave?” Imelda demanded with resentment in her voice. Oscar pulled away and could only offer a shrug. “Until I find out, I won’t be comforted by the fact that he just loves me.” 

Oscar nodded understanding. “Sí, claro.” The train whistle sounded and Imelda grabbed her brother tightly.

“Watch my mija, take care of her,” Imelda ordered. 

With one final wave, Imelda ran for the platform and was helped on the train by the conductor. She found her seat and watched as Santa Cecilia, the only town she ever knew, passed by until there was nothing but land as far as she could see. Imelda leaned her head against the sun warmed glass and wondered if she was making a mistake or not. What if Héctor was fine? What if something just happened that his letters didn’t make it? Then again, what if he didn’t care to see her? What if he was happier on the road with Ernesto? What if he did find some young señorita to warm up to? What if he asked for a divorce? Imelda felt sick thinking about it. She looked down at the thin gold wedding ring Héctor barely managed to afford. No, her marriage was stronger than this.

Imelda leaned back in the seat and thought about her relationship with Héctor. It was so fast, so wonderful and definitely a surprise. She had grown up with Héctor Rivera, they attended primary school together. He was a year younger but still one of the tallest in his class. He was never ambitious or much of a student, he was always writing, poems, songs he made up. He was musical even then. He would whistle in the school yard, hum to himself in class, and relentlessly pound out a beat on any surface. When Héctor was eight, his mother died and he was sent to the opposite side of town to live with his tío and tía. Imelda didn’t see him again until he was sixteen and she seventeen. 

She smiled fondly of that day. Imelda’s father had recently passed and her mother was trying to find someone suitable for her to marry. Imelda had no interest in marriage; she could take care of herself and didn’t need a man or a silly muchacho telling her what to do and how to do it. She had seen many a friend and prima married off to drunkards or abusers. No gracias, that wasn’t for Imelda, to live in unhappiness for the rest of her life. But that day, oh that day in the Plaza, Imelda literally ran into Héctor. He would later say he knocked her off her feet, literally and figuratively. Imelda was annoyed at first and angered by this interloper of her private space, but the tall, sprightly, thin man apologized profusely. Imelda recalled swinging at him with her fist as he helped her up. It wasn’t until the cloudiness of anger dissipated that she recognized something in the young man. It was the eyes, the golden flecks that hung in his deep brown eyes. It was Héctor. 

Something inside of her that day awoke. She had never seen such a good looking young man before. And as much as she thought it, the more she hated herself. Imelda didn’t fawn over men like many of her friends did. She wasn’t some silly girl. She was more mature than that. And yet, she couldn’t help but come watch him in the Plaza as he performed with his guitar, always slung around him like it was sewn to his skin. Mesmerized by his talent for playing and singing, she couldn’t believe how good he sounded. Lucky for her, more of her friends desired the attention of his amigo, Ernesto de la Cruz. Imelda didn’t see what was so good about de la Cruz, he was charming in a boisterous, attention seeking way whereas Héctor got her with his smile, his pleasantness, his tendency to be clumsy and his jokes, that’s what made him charming. Of course, there was only so much time a young girl with a crush could hold back her feelings. 

Imelda suddenly found herself showing up at Señor Ramirez’s music shop more often than not to get a glimpse of Héctor as he polished, cleaned and repaired instruments. She would show up to more and more of his performances at the Plaza or at dance clubs. And for Imelda, she started to believe Héctor liked her too. He would slowly walk by her mother’s home peering into the courtyard hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Their eyes would meet across the crowded Plaza as he played his guitar. At the music shop, Héctor would skimp his duties so he could talk to her, follow her around like a street dog hoping for attention all the while avoiding Señor Ramirez’s shouts to get back to work. 

It wasn’t until a few months after that that their friendship got closer, more intimate. They opened up about everything, nothing was left uncovered. They flirted openly much to the disdain of her mother and the irritation of Ernesto. Imelda smiled remembering that night that changed everything. 

_It was a balmy early spring night of 1917, Imelda was finding herself falling more and more for the cute músico who followed her around. Their friendship had grown closer and closer and Imelda was wondering when, if at all, Héctor was going to ask her out on a real date. She had hoped she wouldn’t have to ask him, but with the way things were going, she would have to._

__

_It was a Saturday and Imelda was out way past curfew, Héctor had offered to escort her home from his performance at the dance hall. They talked quietly about their night and Imelda was trying so hard not to question Héctor’s decision of not asking her out. Imelda couldn’t take her eyes off of him as spoke of his dreams of becoming a real musician and not just playing in the Plaza._

_“What about marriage? A family?” Imelda had asked. Héctor considered this a moment and shrugged._

_“Ah, who knows? What girl would want to marry me anyway? I’m not the type señoritas go for it seems. Although,” he responded grabbing his chin between his fingers, “Who wouldn’t love this muy guapo face?”_

_Imelda laughed uneasily knowing the answer to that question. “So, really no wife or children for your future?” Héctor shrugged seemingly indifferent about the question._  
_“I don’t know, I never really thought about it. I guess maybe one day if the right girl came along. She really would have to turn my head though.” Imelda felt a fire in her stomach, she wanted to be that girl that turned his head. “So, that’s your plan? Settling down in Santa Cecilia with an esposo, have a few kids and call it a day?”_

_Imelda laughed in disbelief. “When you put it that way you make it sound so wonderful Rivera! You definitely are not the romantic are you?”_

_Héctor grinned. “I’ll have you know that I have one romantic bone in my body and it’s-“ Imelda watched him look around and he pointed to the rib over his heart, “-right there.”Imelda laughed. “Come on now. That was a serious question!”_

 

_Imelda thought about it. “Eventually marriage would be nice. But to a man who I’m crazy about and who’s crazy about me. A marriage that will last and children, definitely, I’ve always imagined a hacienda full of kids.” Héctor smiled thoughtfully._

_“Well for you Imelda, I know that you will get that,” Héctor proclaimed. “I don’t know what muchacho wouldn’t be loco for you.” Imelda could only wish he would be. Maybe she was wrong thinking Héctor liked her like that. Of course he didn’t. She hadn’t realized they were at her home, she pulled the key out of her skirt pocket. Héctor smiled at her, his teeth glinting in the moon light._

_“Until next time then?” he asked. Imelda nodded._

_“Thank you for walking me home,” she thanked. Héctor ceremonially bowed in front of her, catching his hat with his hand._

_“It was a pleasure Señorita Valdez,” he stated standing upright again and throwing his hat back on his head. “Buenos noches.”_

_Imelda watched as he walked away humming a little tune. She couldn’t let him go, not without asking. “Héctor?” He turned on his heel and watched her engrossed. She sighed and put her hands on her hips, her face determined. “Were you planning on asking me out on a date sometime soon or am I just fooling myself?”_

_Imelda watched as Héctor smiled widely and chuckled. “You are a strong-minded girl aren’t you Imelda?”She smirked at him from her front gate. Of course she was, didn’t he know that already? “I like that about you.”_

Imelda sighed, the distant memory shaking her soul gently. She missed those carefree days, living at home, not having to worry about every little thing but her and Héctor and their love. Despite the look of his face that night before he left, the ache in his eyes as he said he would quit music. His heart was breaking saying that. She knew it was too much, too much to ask, too much to request. She couldn’t let him give up on it. She couldn’t let him give up on what he loved. That included her and Coco. She remembered the happiness on his face as she said yes to his proposal, the look in his eye as she walked down the aisle towards him, the endearing hesitant fear that encompassed his face the first time he held Coco, taking her from Imelda’s arms only minutes after she came into the world. She knew he loved them; there was no doubt about it. But Imelda couldn’t help but wonder did he love music more?

Imelda shook her head and stared at her wedding ring again. First things first, she needed to make sure he was all right. “Please be all right mi amor, please just be all right.”


	2. No Dejaré De Quererte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the second chapter. Sorry it's a little longer than I wanted it to be. But this flashback scene was too necessary to me. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for dropping by to check it out!

Héctor Rivera wasn’t ungrateful; at least, he didn’t think he was. He had a good life, a _muy hermosa_ wife, a _maravillosa_ mija, air in his lungs, clothes on his back, food to eat and his love of music. He wasn’t a fool, he grew up not knowing where life would take him and he certainly was satisfied with where it did lead him. Except, he felt like a fool, a big stupid fool. A fool who chose going on a tour with his single best friend rather than stay at home with the warm comfort of his wife, waking up to her every morning, leaving behind his young daughter who didn’t understand and only wanted the comfort of her Papá after a bad dream, to tug his hand when she so desired, his girls who made him smile most of the day. Why did he leave them?

Right, because his _estupido_ amigo led him to believe this was their big break, receiving all the money in the world, the fanciest clubs, and the nicest hotel rooms. This was their ticket! And at first, Héctor thought it did sound nice. He would have money to support his family, the chance to play his guitar all the time while Ernesto sang the songs he wrote. But after months of touring, they were no closer to this dream that Ernesto had laid out before him. And Héctor had to admit, he wasn’t happy, he was the opposite of happy. Homesickness nestled like a dull ache in his stomach that grew and grew every day. He spent more days in a bad mood than he ever recalled being in before, he longed to see his girls, he missed the small town life of Santa Cecilia, he even missed just playing for fifty people or so in the Plaza. They were playing for the same amount of people or so out on the road and it wasn’t as satisfying. Héctor loved performing for people he knew, people he knew that would listen and be respectful. He had begun to truly resent the life Ernesto so truly desired. How could anyone be happy like this? 

Happiness to him was home, Imelda lying next to him, warm and soft from sleep. Coco sitting on his lap telling him story after story. He even missed his twin brother-in-laws concocting some invention to help launch Imelda’s business. He missed all of that. He wrote them letter after letter, more frequently than he had in the past. He woke up feeling like a part of him was missing. He would envision Coco and wonder if she had grown more in the last few months, he hated knowing he missed her getting bigger. He would dream of he and Imelda in bed, making love so sweetly that it would leave him in an improper state in the morning, yearning for her touch. He missed the food at home, _sopaipillas_ and _enfrijoladas_ from the street vendors at the Plaza. He just wanted to go home.

Even though he didn’t think he left it on good terms. The night before he left, he and Imelda had an argument that he knew was coming. All the anger that had bubbled inside his sensible but fiery wife exploded onto him. He hadn’t seen Imelda in tears much in their time together but that night…he ached knowing he caused them. He told her the only thing he could come up with, the only answer that made sense, he would quit music, quit touring. The shock on her face was enough to prove to him that she never thought he’d say it but he would if she wanted him to. Truth was he saw that blowing up in his face quicker than going on tour. There was no way Héctor could give up music, stop touring yes, but quit for good? No, no, he couldn’t do that, nor would he want to. So, with Imelda’s loosely wound acceptance he left, breaking his wife and his daughter’s hearts. He wished he could reassure her more that he was coming home; he could see the doubt on Imelda’s face. She wasn’t a fool either. He couldn’t even begin to think what was running through her mind. Abandoning them, not keeping contact, and to Héctor’s horror, having an affair. It made him sick thinking of that, there was no way another girl could turn his head. Not when he had the love of his life at home. He hoped that she would accept him back upon his realization he was a fool to leave it all behind.

As the weeks went on, the resentment towards himself and the decision loomed largely over his mood. He began snapping at Ernesto more often, sleeping in every morning, hardly practicing or networking with Ernesto. One day, his guitar stayed locked tight in its case all day. That never happened with Héctor. But most of all, he was uninspired, nothing could make him write any new songs, not the road, not the ongoing gigs, nothing. 

Ernesto had tried to cheer him up. “Amigo, what you need is a good night out on the town! That should get you inspired and feeling better.” But Héctor chose not to join him, lamenting the night away in the room and writing to his loves waiting for him at home. The worst part was pretending to be asleep when Ernesto brought back a girl to the room, that was enough to make Héctor annoyed. 

It was here in Mexico City that Héctor made his decision. He was done. They still had a month or so to go but he was ready to go home. It was November. He had missed Imelda’s birthday, his birthday was coming in a week and Coco’s was in two weeks as well as his and Imelda’s anniversary. According to their schedule they wouldn’t be home until after her birthday, he just couldn’t break his daughter’s heart anymore. He had been there the day she was born, celebrated her first two birthdays with so much excitement. He didn’t want to miss her third birthday. Besides, he had already purchased her gift and he would rather see her reaction to it than hearing about it when he got home. 

What worried Héctor the most however, was telling Ernesto. Héctor thought long and hard about how to tell Ernesto he was leaving. Héctor knew that Ernesto wasn’t a family man. Like Héctor, he had lost his parents young, but unlike Héctor, Ernesto had no other family alive and lived at the orphanage until he was fifteen. Ernesto encouraged Héctor’s relationship with Imelda, that is, until it became serious. Ernesto liked the idea of Héctor finally taking an interest in the idea of a woman instead of his mind on the guitar all day. But when he told Ernesto he was in love with Imelda, his friend wasn’t so thrilled he had tied himself down. Still, Héctor felt like his best friend was supportive, despite how Ernesto and Imelda felt about each other. Héctor remembered the day he told Ernesto he was going to be a Papá. The look of sheer disbelief on Ernesto’s face was enough to tell Héctor that his friend was disappointed. Their dream, Ernesto still held out that concept, a better life outside of Santa Cecilia, performing for the world. Héctor understood but now he had a new dream, a family, people who cared for him and him for them. People he would give his life for if it came to that. Deep down, Héctor knew it would be all right, Ernesto would understand, after all, they weren’t moving up the ladder of success, merely creeping by at a horizontal pace trying to keep up with the next band. Perhaps it was time Ernesto gave up on it too; find something else that makes him happy while keeping a hold on music. 

With newfound faith in his decision, Héctor had sprung from his bed that morning in Mexico City. They were due to move on to their next town three days from now and that was when he decided to say _adiós_ to the road and _hola_ to home. He was so happy he couldn’t stand it, and it was noticeable to Ernesto. 

“Change of heart over the night my friend?” Ernesto asked as they headed into a Plaza. Héctor was dancing around, the sun was shining, music was playing in the background from some mariachi band, and people were flocking around food vendors and stalls. It reminded Héctor of home, but more elaborate and more crowded. While it didn’t make him homesick, it did make him excited for the new path he was about to embark. 

“You could say that!” Héctor exclaimed literally jumping up and down. He smiled at his friend. “I don’t know what it is but I’m having a really good day.”

Ernesto laughed and clapped him on the back. “Glad to hear it! Now we can focus on the rest of the tour with our heads held high!”

Héctor felt his smile faint and he nodded, “The tour, right.” Except Ernesto hadn’t heard him, he had stopped at a stall and was purchasing an orange. Héctor pulled out a few coins to buy one as well. He smiled, oranges held a special place in his and Imelda’s heart. One of the last times he saw Coco she was eating an orange too, the juice running down her chin as she giggled. His heart soared thinking about seeing them again. 

As Héctor took up his orange he noticed across the way was a photographer’s studio. He smiled, an idea forming in his head. He tugged at Ernesto’s elbow. “Let’s go over here; I want to see how much a _foto_ costs.” 

“A _foto_ , why? We aren’t even dressed our best! If we want professional pictures done we might as well go back to the inn and put our suits on,” Ernesto proclaimed. Héctor laughed.

“Does your mind always go back to performing and succeeding? I was thinking about getting a _foto_ to send home to Imelda and Coco,” he explained. 

“So that Imelda can see what she’s not missing?” Ernesto asked.

“Ha ha,” Héctor lamented as they started in the door of the shop.

A small bell rang as they stepped inside. Héctor looked around the shop taking in the stiff people in the photographs, families, soldiers, charros and even musicians and bands. The camera stood in front of a backdrop. Footsteps sounded from the back and shorter man with a cap came out. 

“ _Hola señores_ , how could I help you today?” he asked. 

Ernesto wrapped his arm around Héctor’s shoulders. “My friend has come to get a _foto_ of himself to send back home to his wife.” 

“If it’s not too expensive,” Héctor stated pulling money out of his pocket. 

“Si Señor, it won’t be that much. I can give you a quality standard size for only a few pesos. It’s becoming more and more affordable of a practice,” the owner stated. “Just one for you?” 

 

“Si, just the one,” Héctor stated putting some pesos down on the counter. Héctor looked around as the owner rang his order up. He didn’t like the backdrop too much and wondered if there was another background that could be used. “Is there another place the _foto_ could be taken? Like maybe outside?”

The owner smiled thoughtfully. “If that’s what you would want Señor, I’d be happy to help with anything you want.” 

After he was rung up, Héctor checked his appearance in the cracked mirror in the back of the studio. He combed his hair with his fingers and made sure his jacket was nice and neat. “How much longer does it take you to be perfect Héctor?” Ernesto asked, “You’re prepping yourself more for this than how you look before a show.”

“This is _importante_ Erensto, I want to look my best,” Héctor responded. He had only had his photograph taken one other time. He and Imelda took Coco the year before to have a real family picture done. Imelda wore her best dress and Héctor wore his _charro_ suit wanting to look nice, of course, he had to have his guitar with him. It was a part of him, even Imelda told him that several times. He smiled of the memory, Coco’s pondering gaze at the camera, almost confused as to what was happening. The framed foto now sat on their mantel in the kitchen. Héctor smiled at himself. “ _Perfecto_.”

Héctor and Ernesto headed outside, the day was getting warm, Héctor knew if he was outside much longer he would be sweating, something he didn’t want displayed in the _foto_. The photographer had found a good shady spot underneath the Plaza arches to take Héctor’s photo. There were a tree or two in the background and Héctor thought it looked scenic enough.

“All right Señor, stand straight and give the camera a big smile!” the photographer stated. Héctor did as told. The bright flashbulb went off blinding Héctor and even Ernesto rubbed his eyes. 

“Gracias,” Héctor thanked shaking the photographer’s hand, “When can I pick it up?”

The photographer looked at his watch. “This afternoon, I’ll have it ready by three.” 

“ _Perfecto_ ,” Héctor stated with a smile. He was so happy to have a picture to send home to Imelda. He was doubtful she’d receive it before he got home but it would be a nice surprise even if he was home already. 

Héctor and Ernesto breezed from shop to shop and bought a few things to eat. Héctor watched as Ernesto purchased a bottle of tequila. He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow. “Doing a little celebrating?” Héctor asked.

“ _Venga!_ Every day is a celebration Héctor! Why not have a good drink to go with it?” Ernesto asked heartily. “Besides, it could be a memento to the tour. Knowing it was our first step towards greatness!”

Héctor laughed uneasily. Greatness, right. At least he could pretend to be enthusiastic for Ernesto’s sake, he really wasn’t looking forward to hurt his friend’s feelings. No matter how Héctor felt, Ernesto was having a blast on tour. He loved the limelight, the fans cheering, the señoritas fawning over him, he wanted it all. Héctor knew that Ernesto’s home was on stage, he loved the attention. He would do well on his own, he didn’t need Héctor sticking around just bringing him down. Which Héctor knew was happening more and more each day. 

The two friends headed back to the inn to escape the maddening crowds of the newly packed plaza. Héctor was anxious to get back anyway; he wanted to write another letter to send with his _foto_. He didn’t waste a moment pulling out a fresh sheet of paper and the small nub of a pencil he kept with this songbook. Ernesto sighed watching his best friend.

“Another letter home, _amigo_?” Ernesto asked in muted disapproval putting the bottle of tequila on the small table near the window. “Imelda can’t miss you that much.”

Héctor felt the small ache of regret fill his chest remembering the last night he was home. The angry fire in Imelda’s brown eyes that melted into heartbreak. He could only hope Imelda missed him just as much as he missed her. He would even hope for a miniscule amount of what he felt! Héctor grinned cheery. “Who wouldn’t miss this face?” he asked jauntily cupping his chin. 

Ernesto laughed not amused. “Not this muchacho!” 

Héctor grinned and propped himself up on his bed to compose his letter. He scratched at his unkempt head of hair and thought about what to say that he already hadn’t. His letters were filled with words of love, care, concern for them. He hadn’t brought up their argument or the unfortunate decision of him touring in his letters. Imelda never expressed anger in the few letters he had received from her, only words of love, hopes that he was eating right, sleeping well and taking care of himself. But out of all that, Imelda wished he would come home safely, he could read between the lines. He knew how she felt and truth was, he felt the same. He wanted nothing more to return to his girls, pick Coco up in his arms and swing her around, kiss Imelda deeply holding her close to him. He was never letting them go again. Hector thought about what to write and suddenly it was upon him.

_Mi Amor,_

_Greetings from Mexico City! Still here, still breathing, still living and still waiting to return home to you and Coco. Life on the road certainly isn’t what I expected. And I don’t mean that in a good way. I miss you. I miss Coco. I miss Santa Cecilia. There are so many things I never thought I would miss but now that I’ve been to so much of Mexico, I know there is nothing better than home. My family. Mi vida. I miss the smell of the plaza during the day, dirt and fresh fruits and flowers thrown in with the food from the street vendors. I missed the even whirl of the sewing machines that grace your workshop as you do your mending and sewing. I miss Coco jumping on me in the morning while I’m still in bed asking if I want to get up and have Chilaquiles with her. I miss holding you close to me as we watch the sunset from the roof of the hacienda. I miss waking up to you lying next to me, your hair over your shoulders, the uncomplicated, beautiful sensation of sleep on your face. I miss tripping over toys that Coco leaves out. I even miss the chiflado ways of your brothers and their companionship. I miss holding Coco close and singing to her as she leans into my embrace. I miss kissing your lips whenever I want, even if you are annoyed by my affection. I know you love it! I can tell by your grin as you walk away, I can read you like a book!_

_I think what I’m trying to say here is, I miss all that and more and even if you think I don’t, even if you think this is what I wanted. I was estupido to think it was. I know, I know, you’re probably dancing around now chanting “I was right, he was wrong!” I’m sure I’ll hear about it when I get home. But more importantly I want you to know, I am coming home. At the end of this week. I’m leaving Mexico City to come home to my girls. I don’t care about the touring anymore, I don’t care about making a name for myself. I only care to have you and Coco and my life in Santa Cecilia. That’s all I want. Well, and music, but not the way you probably think! I can’t give up music, playing guitar, writing songs. That’s a liberty I won’t surrender. And I know you understand that mi amor. You always understand me. That’s why we’re perfect for each other. I’ve known all along. Well, maybe not in the beginning, that was a little bit of a confusing time. But nevertheless, we found out we were perfect for one another._

_This letter may get to you after I get home. If I’m already home, sorpresa! If I’m not, well, sorpresa again! I can’t wait to see you and Coco. Give her a big abrazo and even bigger beso from Papá. I hope she’s being good. And as for you my dulce esposa, there are a few things I can’t wait to do to you when I see you._

_I’m coming home._

_Por siempre tu amor,_

_Héctor_

Héctor chuckled to himself reading the last bit. He could almost feel the redness pulsate off Imelda’s chest upon reading that. She always chastised him for being so romantic in the open, but he knew she loved it. Hector leaned his head against the wall behind his bed and thought about Imelda. How they ended up together, he would never know. An awkward, friendly musician who wore his heart on his sleeve and a fiery, determined, hot tempered but beautiful girl, completely opposite but so right for one another. 

Héctor had liked Imelda from the beginning of their reunion when he was sixteen. They became friends, quicker than he imagined they would be. He thought she was _muy hermosa_ but he didn’t like her in a romantic way. Not at first. He would often walk past her parent’s home. It was in a more family oriented neighborhood in Santa Cecilia, her father was a _sastre_ , and he had a small shop within his home. Héctor knew Imelda’s father had passed away the previous winter and her mother and she were keeping up with the business. Héctor knew Imelda would help her family with sewing and mending during the day and deliver orders in the afternoon. He would slowly drift by the open gate of the hacienda and hear a beautiful voice singing from the workshop. It wasn’t until Héctor spotted her in the courtyard one day dancing and singing as she strung up laundry on the line did he realize it was Imelda. Not only was this girl beautiful, easy to talk to and smart but she could sing too? Héctor fell in love. He began showing up in places where he knew she would be just as Imelda would pop up in Señor Ramierz’s music shop as he worked his shift. It seemed kismet to Héctor that Imelda was the one for him. 

He was so nervous to ask her out for a night on the town. He knew her family was a popular one what with their business and all and he didn’t want to hear the town talk about how the _músico_ boy was taking out the daughter of the town _sastre_. That and Imelda was startling beautiful. How could a beautiful girl like her even consider going out with him? That’s why when Imelda finally asked him out after he chickened out for the tenth time he was thrilled. Going out with her was amazing but their first kiss, now that was something for the record books. That night was magical all on its own and it wasn’t just that first kiss that made it memorable.

_Héctor couldn’t believe their luck! Ernesto had obtained a gig for them that would surely open doors! He had booked a performance at Esteban’s Cantina just outside Santa Cecilia. Héctor was pretty nervous for this gig, excited nervous, the kind of excited you get that seems to make your stomach roll in anticipation for days, the excitement that ate away at you anticipating that moment. He was so thrilled he asked Imelda to accompany them. He knew it was a long shot, they had only been out on one official date and this was past her curfew, again, and the disparaging looks from Ernesto told him he wasn’t sure Imelda was rightfully welcomed on this trip. But none of that mattered when Imelda agreed to come with them. Despite Ernesto’s grumblings, Héctor couldn’t have been happier._

_That is, until they arrived._

_The cantina was seedy to say the least and Héctor was now worried about Imelda joining them. The cantina back in Santa Cecilia was cleaner, less threatening, this place seemed like every canalla in Mexico was there. To be safe, Héctor kept one arm locked around Imelda’s shoulders for her safety and one hand gripping his guitar for the fear of someone stealing it._

_Things went smoothly at first. The gerente offered them a huge sum for the performance, that is if they performed well, no pay if they were bad. Ernesto assured the man they would be fantástico. Héctor wasn’t so sure and he tried to swallow away the large lump of nerves that had suddenly formed in his throat. He could play well, but he wasn’t so sure the audience would be so receptive to their style. Maybe it would be okay, play a few popular mariachi tunes, a few drinking songs, steer clear of love songs and they’d be good. With new found confidence, Héctor settled Imelda backstage to wait for them and to watch the performance._

_However, Héctor’s ideas for their set list were shot down by Ernesto who wanted to stick with their original songs. Wanting to avoid an argument, Héctor reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t until they finished the second song and the shot glass came flying at Héctor’s head that he knew listening to Ernesto was a mistake. He reacted and yelped as the shot glass missed his head by inches. He stumbled and fell to the stage holding his guitar up to not smash it, the shot glass however, was not as lucky and it shattered in pieces behind Héctor. The boos and jeers were becoming louder as the unruly cantina patrons displayed their dislike with cursing, crude gestures and threats to get off the stage pendejo! Héctor clambered off the stage as it was being pelted by glass and food items._

 

_“Dios mio!” Héctor cried arriving backstage. He felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest. They had had bad performances before but nothing like this! Imelda stood from her chair, her face twisted with alarm._

_“What happened?” she asked coming to Héctor’s side as Ernesto thundered down the steps to just behind the curtain. Héctor sighed seeing the distress on her face. Before he could answer her, Ernesto grabbed his shoulder roughly and pulled him over._

_“En serio Héctor? That’s how you save a performance? By leaving?” Ernesto boomed. His face red with anger or embarrassment Héctor wasn’t sure but judging by the tight thin line his lips were in and the way his brow was furrowed, Ernesto was not happy. Héctor could feel the anger swell in him too. He threw Ernesto’s hand off his shoulder._

_“This isn’t my entire fault! I suggested we sing something more traditional, something those tontos out there would appreciate! Not my songs, not something that would be acceptable in the plaza!” Héctor griped removing his guitar._

_“We’ve got a lot of money riding on this performance! You can’t just leave the stage!” Ernesto shouted. The yells and jeers from the front were getting louder. Héctor could only imagine the brawl that was taking place out in the cantina. And it didn’t help seeing the gerente’s steaming red face, the vein in his forehead bulging._

_“Hey pendejos! Get back out on stage! No performance, no money!” he screamed at them. He poked Ernesto in the chest threateningly. “They wreck my cantina and it’s coming off your stipend! Tú entiendes?”_

_Héctor cringed, as much as he needed this money, he was ready to just go. He sighed and rubbed his face furiously with his hands as Ernesto argued with the gerente. Hector was pulling at his hair and he suddenly remembered Imelda. He looked around to see she was gone. Panic hit him._

_“Imelda?” he called. He glanced towards the stage to see her walking up the stairs towards the front. He gasped horrified. No, no, no! He grabbed her hand and she turned making him stop in his tracks. He suddenly noticed she had pulled her hair down; it cascaded down her back in tender soft curls. She had pulled the shoulders of her dress down revealing soft delicate skin that his fingers were itching to touch. She stared at him, one eyebrow cocked as if to ask him what he was doing. Dios mio, she couldn’t get any more beautiful._

_“Qué?” she asked crossing her arms in front of her. Héctor grabbed his left wrist with his hand and felt nervous all of the sudden._

_“I can’t let you go up there!” he finally got out, his voice high and scratchy._

_Imelda sighed. She pointed a finger at him; she was eye to eye with him on the step. “You need this money, right?”_

_“Well sí but-“_

_“Well, I’m saving you Rivera. You can thank me later.” She turned and began heading for the stage again._

_“Imelda! No, no, no! Wait!” Héctor tried in vain to grab her wrist as she headed for the stage. Terror filled his body at the sight of his beautiful sweet princesa making her way across the stage. Somehow, every obstacle avoided her and she gingerly stepped around the litter. Héctor grabbed at his face in stricken fear. He would never live with himself if Imelda got hurt._

_“What is she doing?” Ernesto was at Héctor’s side all of the sudden and he didn’t look any happier than before. He almost looked mortified seeing Imelda stepping to the microphone. Héctor grasped his guitar to him and closed his eyes praying that whatever Imelda was going to do was going to work._

_He heard Imelda’s soft breath sigh gently in the microphone and for a split second, it seemed as if the men quieted. Héctor opened his eyes holding his breath. Imelda stood at the microphone and a brief flash of regret crossed her face. But she then closed her eyes and knitted her eyebrows together._

_“Ay- di mi llorona,” she began singing tenderly. Héctor felt his jaw drop and his knees buckle. He quickly put his guitar around him. The crowd was quiet, no doubt with the vision of a beautiful girl in front of them. Imelda kept on singing. “Llorona, de azul celeste.”_

_Héctor hopped up on stage. “Héctor! What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Ernesto cried out. Héctor ignored him and walked out on stage._

_“Ay de mi, llorona,” Imelda sang and Héctor began strumming slightly. Imelda jumped a little hearing the guitar and she turned to look at him. He smiled at her softly, his eyes wide with wonder, he nodded a little encouraging her to go on. She smiled back as he joined her side. “Llorona de azul celeste.”_

_Héctor faced her, watching her, feeling his heart soar with such momentum, the song carrying him away. “Y aunque la vida me cueste llorona.” She glanced over at him and Héctor felt as if he were going to collapse. Imelda was staring at him with such earnest fervor that it was in that moment, he knew. He loved her. She smiled, almost seductively as she sang, “No dejare de quererte.”_

_Héctor felt a new found confidence in him as she continued singing. Something inside of him burst and it made him feel so wonderful, so high, so astounded at the same time. As she got into the song, he mirrored her and his guitar playing became more aggressive, more elegant and flowing. Imelda danced as she sang, the microphone stand her partner. The crowd was cheering; leave it to them to enjoy a performance by a beautiful girl and not two men. Héctor was mesmerized by her zeal, her enjoyment of this. He realized he could stand and watch her dancing for hours, his fingers twitched wanting to reach out and grab her hips to pull her closer to him. For the first time, he desired to do more than just hold her hand._

_The performance seemed to last forever but also too short at the same time. Héctor would’ve given anything to have it go on longer but as the crowd cheered and clapped for Imelda, Héctor couldn’t help but shout out his ovation for Imelda. He grabbed her hand and raised it above her head, waving his other hand in a bowing motion which Imelda caught on and dipped in a bow, fanning her skirt with her other hand. She looked depleted, as if that act of fiery determination was drenched by a pail of water in the form of La Llorona. He could tell she enjoyed it, but it drained her and all the conviction she had was gone. Héctor clapped wildly for her and whistled smiling enthusiastically towards her. Imelda grinned, the flush on her face growing._

_The two of them headed off the stage, Imelda bounded down the stairs and Héctor followed removing his guitar from around him. He watched as Imelda spun in a circle, quite pleased with herself it seemed. Héctor couldn’t help but smile a little and before he knew it, Imelda was jumping on him and he caught her with ease. The laughter in her voice was apparent and Héctor felt himself chuckle a little. Imelda peered up at him, her arms around his neck, his braced tightly around her waist. Dios she was gorgeous, he desired nothing more than to kiss those sweet lips of hers. Her grin eased slightly as she realized the seriousness of this embrace, Héctor thought better of the scenario and placed her down on the floor. Gratefully, Imelda didn’t remove her arms from around his neck._

_“That was-“ she started to say but Héctor could tell she was struggling to find the words._

_“You were…terrific, amazing,” Héctor murmured gently holding his hands against her back tighter. Imelda smiled coyly and looked down at the floor. Héctor lifted his arm and moved a tendril of hair off her neck. “Gracias Imelda, you saved us.”_

_“That she did.”_

_Héctor and Imelda stood up straight and stiff hearing Ernesto’s slight comment. His tone seemed to be laced with spite and bitterness. His crossed arm appearance did nothing to comfort Héctor in this moment._

_“She did us a favor Nesto, the least I think we can do is be appreciative,” Héctor commented putting an arm around Imelda’s shoulders._

_“A onetime favor!” Imelda corrected. “You boys better get your act together, don’t plan on me bailing you out every time. Comprende?” Héctor laughed but Ernesto didn’t seem too thrilled with this idea. He stood there, a grimace on his face. It slowly turned into a face of resigned placation. Héctor knew Ernesto couldn’t deny the sound of the crowd, the electricity that Imelda gave the crowd. Héctor waved his friend on._

_“Come on amigo! Let’s give the crowd what they really want!” Héctor stated. Ernesto sighed heavily and then smiled. He clapped Héctor on the back and pushed him forever._

_“Vamonos my friend! We have show to finish!” Ernesto pronounced. Héctor smiled warmly at Imelda and she returned it. He was so grateful for her but he couldn’t help but feel as Ernesto passed Imelda, there was something there that didn’t make sense. An awkward uncomfortable feeling that only made him think for a split second before he put his guitar around him and went out on stage._  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

_“You were asombroso tonight Héctor,” Imelda complimented as Héctor walked her home._

_“Me? You were on fire tonight! Where did that come from?” he asked still amazed by her little performance. Imelda shook her head in refutation._

_“No, I just wanted to help, there was nothing special about that performance,” she rebuffed. Héctor stopped walking and she followed his movement. Imelda turned to look at him._

_“Are you kidding me? You were increíble!” he remarked. “You really saved our skin tonight.”_

_Imelda shrugged but the tiny grin on her lips told Héctor she was touched by his comment. “That’s what friends do for one another. We help each other.”_

_Friends? Oh if Imelda only knew how much more he wanted to be. Imelda ran her fingers nervously through her hair, it was still down, surrounding her shoulders. She had surreptitiously moved her shoulders back up on her dress at some point. She couldn’t look any more beautiful than she did at that moment in time._

_Héctor smiled deeply. “Well thank you again. I can’t seem to thank you enough.”_

_Imelda shook her head. “You’ve thanked me plenty,” Imelda responded. “No need to keep going.” Héctor watched as she placed a strand of hair behind her ear._

_“I’ve never seen you with your hair down, literally and figuratively,” he stated. “It’s beautiful.”_

_Héctor swore he saw redness creep across her chest. “Well, I keep it nice and neat because of the shop. Don’t need it to get stuck in a sewing machine.”_

_Héctor rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I still feel like I owe you something for this. Here.” He pulled out his part of the pay._

_“Oh no! I can’t let you do that.” Imelda’s hand pushed his away. “That’s your money.”_

_“You deserve something for this,” Héctor stated. Imelda was watching him, the softness of her lips in a straight line, eyebrows raised slightly as if questioning where this was going. Héctor reached out and took her hand. “There must be something I can do or get or…anything.”_

_Imelda smiled a little and then looked up at the sky. “I’ll let you know when it comes to me.”_

_Héctor grinned and then on a whim pulled her closer to him. “Would it be wrong of me then to ask you for a kiss? As a proper way of saying gracias for bailing us out tonight?”_

_Imelda’s face was serious as she looked up at him. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt músico.” Héctor grinned and pulled her closer, her soft breath against his chin as she looked up at him. He dared to look in her eyes, seeing the urgency in them. She wanted this, he wanted this, there was nothing left to do but kiss her .He felt Imelda’s arms go around his back. His skin tingled with anticipation._

_Imelda pulled away as a thought hit her. “As long as I don’t have to kiss Ernesto too, I’m not sure I’m willing to be that generous with him.”_

_Héctor grimaced and laughed uncomfortably. “No, I’m pretty sure that won’t be necessary.”_

_“Bueno, you’re the only one I want to kiss,” she murmured. Héctor shivered a little at the seriousness in her tone. He leaned in and kissed her lips softly. He knew this was everything he wanted and more. Everything about it was gentle and loving, a connection that Héctor didn’t know he needed but now he knew he didn’t want to let it go. After a few seconds they pulled away. Héctor couldn’t help but keep his eyes closed enjoying the feeling of her lips upon his._

_“I’m glad I’m the only one you want to kiss,” he stated opening his eyes. “If you didn’t, I don’t think I could let anyone else kiss you.”_

_Imelda laughed. “Well, that’s a good thing then Rivera. I think you’re stuck with me.”_

_Héctor smiled. He wouldn’t have it any other way._

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Here you are señor.” The photographer held up the ,em>foto for Héctor to view

“It’s perfect!” Héctor exclaimed as the photographer gave him his _foto_. “My wife will love it.”

“ _Excelente_. Have a wonderful day señor,” the photographer thanked as Héctor stepped outside where Ernesto was waiting for him. 

“Did you get it amigo?” Ernesto asked drawing his eyes away from two señoritas that were walking by. Héctor proudly displayed the _foto_ to Ernesto. Ernesto chuckled. “You look _tonto_ , eyes wide, big smile of cheesiness.” Héctor glared at him, leave it to Ernesto to find something in the _foto_ to tease him about. 

“Well, I like it and Imelda will too,” Héctor said putting it in his jacket pocket for safekeeping. Ernesto clapped Héctor’s shoulder. 

“That’s all that matters Héctor, if you think she’ll like it then that’s what counts,” Ernesto stated. “After all, it’ll be a nice surprise to help her through the last few weeks of the tour. You know Imelda understands, don’t worry about her.” 

Héctor swallowed hard. “Yeah, she does.” Her face from the night before he left popped into his head. He shook his head to rid the thought. He couldn’t bear to think of it, he knew how she really felt. He was _muy estupido_. How could he have left such great beauty at home? His heart soared thinking of returning home to her, making apologies, reconfirming his commitment to her. He’d promise her, he wouldn’t leave again.

He turned to Ernesto who was still talking but Héctor wasn’t listening. He had to tell Ernesto soon. He couldn’t imagine the fight that would happen when he told him he would be going home, he wasn’t going on tours anymore, that his family mattered more than all of this. Ernesto wouldn’t understand, he knew that much. He would have to tell him tonight after their performance. He was leaving in just a few days. 

Héctor had been lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize they were back at the inn until Ernesto was pulling the key out to unlock the door. 

“Perhaps we should open that tequila tonight my friend,” Ernesto commented putting the key in the lock. “I feel like it’s a night to celebrate.”

“Every night is a night to celebrate with you Ernesto, especially on tour,” Héctor stated as Ernesto opened the door. Its hinges squeaked and Ernesto stopped in the doorway almost as if something had welded his feet to the floor. Héctor looked over his shoulder and gasped in disbelief, his heart started pounding at the figure on the bed stood and smiled.

“Imelda?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I think I'm going to try to update this once a week to once every two weeks as time allows with my personal life. I'm not sure how many chapters this will entail but right now I'm just excited to write this little story.


	3. I'll Count It As A Blessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the nice comments! They really make my day! For this chapter, we're going back to earlier in the day when Imelda first arrives. I hope you enjoy!

Imelda stepped off the train and was overwhelmed immediately. The hustle and bustle of Mexico City was a far cry from Santa Cecilia. Imelda had never been to a big city before and now she could see why she never had a desire to. There were too many people everywhere, garbage littered the alleyways and there was a smell Imelda couldn’t put her finger on. She covered her nose slightly as she pushed her way through the throng of people outside the train station. She found a bench and sat her suitcase on it pulling out Héctor’s last letter home. 

The letter stated he was staying at _La Posada de Caléndula_ , she just had to find it. Imelda folded the letter delicately and placed it back in her pocket before picking up her suitcase and trudging over to the ticket booth. She marched up to the window; the man behind it was busily going through paperwork. Imelda sighed and knocked startling him. He hurriedly opened the window and cleared his throat.

“Si señorita, how may I help you?” he asked. 

“Could you tell me where to find _La Posada de Caléndula_? My husband is staying there,” Imelda explained. The clerk held a finger up for a pause as he scrounged for something under his desk. Imelda watched as he pulled out a blank piece of paper and drew his pencil out from behind his ear. 

“ _Por supuesto_ , it’s not far from here. Down the lane behind you, past the Plaza del Sol, take the first right after the plaza and then the second left.” Imelda watched as put the pencil down and handed her the paper.

“Gracias,” she stated stepping away from the window. 

“You travelled alone?” Imelda raised an eyebrow at the man who now stood, hands on hips, eyeing her conspicuously. He shook his head. “If I was your husband I wouldn’t dare let you travel alone in a big city.” 

Imelda fitted her lip into a straight line. “I can take care of myself, gracias señor.” She turned on her heel and headed down the street. She grumbled under her breath, she wouldn’t be travelling alone if her husband had just stayed at home where he belonged! Imelda felt the steam rise in her as she stomped down the street. How dare that stranger judge her? He didn’t even know her! And the fact that she was travelling alone…couldn’t any woman do so if she so desired? And to judge her husband as well, that man didn’t know their circumstances! 

But Imelda felt her steam cooling as she made it to the plaza and fear gripped her stomach. She was so close to Héctor but still so far and the terror that something had happened to him was still fresh in her mind. She searched the plaza for any sign of his figure, tall and lanky with his unruly hair. She didn’t know what would happen if she came upon the inn and he wasn’t there or holed up sick in bed or worse. She shook her head, she was jumping to conclusions, this wasn’t like her. 

 

The clock tower in the plaza startled her jumpy thoughts as it struck three o’clock. Imelda picked her skirt up with one hand and hefted the suitcase with the other as she pushed past people in the plaza. Again she was reminded that cities weren’t for her. She watched as chickens ran rampant through the street, this was not unusual to her, chickens were a common sight at the plaza back home but not this many. But there were other things too, vermin running around picking at the scraps the chicken missed. Imelda shuddered wishing she had brought Pepita with her, her girl would’ve taken care of every rodent here. Imelda still couldn’t get over the smell, and she watched as someone in an apartment above her threw dirty discarded water out the window. Imelda wasn’t put off by that either but this water smelt of sewage and decaying food. She wrinkled her nose and pushed out of the plaza. 

The street off the plaza was quieter but it made her sad, it was mostly old abandoned homes or homes that were in much need of repair. Santa Cecilia was not an extravagant or rich town but most of the homes were stone and filled with loving families. There were neighbors to help if a window was busted or if a garden needed mending or even if a fence needed repairs, here the homes were falling into disrepair. Imelda frowned and kept on going.

When she rounded the corner of the second left, she saw the new street was more business centric. A _panadería_ sat on the corner and what looked like a park down at the end of the lane. _La Posada de Caléndula_ was situated in between a quiet looking cantina and a _carnicero_ shop.

Imelda opened the solid heavy wooden door of the inn and the _posadero_ looked up, his wire rimmed glasses down on his nose. He smiled warmly at Imelda. “Buenas tardes señorita. How may I help you today?” he asked opening his book.

“Buenas tardes señor, I am actually looking for my husband. He is staying here,” Imelda explained placing her suitcase at her feet as she peered over the counter at the book hoping to see his name. The _posadero_ nodded and flipped the pages of his book to the correct date. 

“Si, si and does your husband know you are arriving?” he asked. Imelda bit her lip gently. She was afraid this man wouldn’t let her in the room if she said no. After all, she was showing up to his business and wanting to see one of his tenants. He might not believe she was actually married to someone staying there. For all he knew she could’ve escaped from a lunatic asylum. Imelda decided to play around, Héctor would be proud. 

“No, he doesn’t know.” The _posadero_ glanced up at Imelda who smiled playfully. “It’s a secret but I showed up as a surprise for our wedding anniversary. He’s here for a trip.” It was a small lie, there anniversary was still two months away but this man didn’t need to know that.

The _posadero_ laughed heartily. “ _Felicidades!_ What is his name? I’ll be sure to show you to his room.”

“Héctor Rivera,” Imelda answered. The _posadero_ glanced up at her quietly. Imelda grinned trying to stay positive. “He is still in residence isn’t he?” 

The man cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up on his face. “Why yes, he is. Lo siento I just assumed Señor Rivera was not married. He is a musician after all.” Suspicion prickled in Imelda’s chest. _Not married?_ Why did this man assume Héctor was not married? She watched carefully as the man looked up Héctor’s name in the book. “He is staying in Room 5 with Señor de la Cruz. I don’t have another key to give you, but I can let you in the room.” 

“Si, that would be wonderful,” Imelda approved. She picked up the suitcase as the man came from around the counter. He took her bag and Imelda pulled back. “Gracias, that isn’t necessary.”

“By all means Señora Rivera, I couldn’t let you carry your bag,” he stated. Imelda obliged and handed him the bag. She followed him back outside and he led her down a narrow walkway to the rooms. Room 5 was the third one down on the right. The man knocked swiftly on the door.

“ _Excusa_ caballeros?” he called through the door. Imelda felt her heartbeat quicken, whether it was from excitement or fear of the unknown she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t even begun to think how Héctor would react seeing her here. They didn’t exactly leave on the best terms with one another. Imelda wasn’t looking forward to another argument with him, especially in front of Ernesto. It was none of that man’s business even though he clearly liked to put his two cents in with every situation. 

The _posadero_ knocked again pulling Imelda’s mind back to the current situation. He looked at her and gave her a reassuring grin. “They must be out. I can let you in the room if you’d like or you could wait in the check in area for them.” 

“Could I be let in?” Imelda asked hopefully. The man nodded and pulled his ring of keys off his belt. She watched as he fingered the keys trying to find the right one. He slid it into the lock carefully, taking his time just so that Imelda was growing impatient. She just wanted to get into Héctor’s room and this man was dragging out the inevitable, even if Héctor wasn’t there at the moment. Imelda finally heard the lock unlock and the man opened the door for her. 

“Here you are Señora,” he stated waving her in with his hand. “If you need anything else at all, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

Appreciative, Imelda smiled. “Gracias Señor-“

“Señor Rueda,” he stated with a warm smile. “Enjoy your _aniversario_.” With that Imelda stepped inside the room and he closed the door behind him. Imelda immediately locked the door behind her and leaned against it. The room was stuffy so Imelda opened the window first letting fresh air in. She turned back around and took in the beds, both were unmade and messy. Dirty clothes were resting on the edge of one bed and under another one, an empty suitcase was sliding out. Imelda recognized Héctor’s dirty clothes resting on the one bed and she smiled picking them up and folding them. It was just like at home. He was so messy to her organized lifestyle that it was cause for a few playful arguments of unfolded clothes, dishes left on the table and Coco’s toys left out after they were done playing.

Imelda sat on the bed and looked at the small table next to it. There was an envelope with their home address on it. Imelda picked it up and raised an eyebrow, so he was writing home, his first letter home in two weeks. Imelda glanced back at the table. “Oh,” she breathed seeing Coco’s drawn pictures on the table. She smiled running her fingers over them. She wondered if he did miss them. He had said so in his original letters but after two weeks, Imelda began to wonder. She placed the pictures back where they lay. 

Imelda looked around the room. On the table was a guitar case. Imelda didn’t need to open it to recognize it was Héctor’s. That pearl white guitar with the black inlay, the guitar Héctor desired even before he met Imelda. The guitar Imelda surprised him with on their wedding night, the one she saved up for months for. Imelda stood and wandered over to the table, placing her hands on the brown case. She closed her eyes. 

Her mamá’s voice entered her mind again. _“Imeldita, you could do so much better than that silly boy! Think of your future. What kind of life could he give you?”_

Imelda sighed ending in a slight shudder. She recalled her next words to her Mamá, _“A good one mama, one I would want a thousand times over. You’re wrong about him!”_

But now, she wasn’t so sure. Imelda opened her eyes, her mother, Delfina, just thinking about her put irritation in Imelda’s heart. Their relationship was tenuous to begin with and it only got worse from that point on. Imelda hadn’t talked to her mother since she was pregnant with Coco and before that was right after Héctor had come to ask for her blessing to propose. But, to her mother’s chagrin and anger, Héctor had already proposed to Imelda and she had said yes. Her mamá wouldn’t have any of it, disowned her right there in the kitchen of their home. It didn’t matter at that moment, Héctor was her new home. Imelda remembered the moment her mother found out about her and Héctor being in love. How she wished her mother would’ve had a different reaction. 

***

_Imelda groaned and stretched as she woke up, the sun bright and cheery through the window of Imelda’s bedroom. She threw her blanket over her eyes and lay there. She didn’t care to know what time it was and she was surprised Mamá had not stormed into the room demanding she be up to help with the orders. Imelda had gotten in past curfew, again. Before Héctor there was rarely a day Imelda even went anywhere, but since he showed up in her life, Imelda had been to many places she had never been before and all in the company of a good looking boy who filled her thoughts all day long._

_Imelda smiled to herself remembering the kisses she and Héctor had shared as he dropped her off at her door the night before, quietly as to not disturb her brothers or her mother. It had been weeks since she saved his skin at the cantina and they had grown closer in the following days. So much so that Imelda was finding herself thinking about him constantly, what song he was working on, if he was thinking of her, his calloused fingertips on her bare arms pulling her in for kiss after kiss after kiss. His laughter and jokes, his tendency towards clumsiness and his charm. Imelda would catch him sometimes when he wasn’t looking and she would stare at him, his dark messy hair and deep brown eyes, his structured cheekbones and his lean frame, so handsome, so sweet. And did she mention the kissing?_

_Imelda sighed happily, if she didn’t know any better she would’ve said she was falling in love with Héctor Rivera. Imelda threw the blanket off of her and went to the window to open up her room to the fresh spring air. She knew she would be busy today, with spring came weddings and parties and spring formals at school. They would be busy with all the tailoring and mending they would have to do. As Imelda swung open her window she smiled seeing an orange, her favorite fruit, and a purple rose, her favorite flower, laying on the sill. She picked them up smelling the rose and then smelling the orange, its citrusy scent filling her nose with heavenly aroma. Héctor. She peered down and saw that sure enough, Héctor had been there and some of her mother’s dahlias had seen the worst of it. She chuckled to herself._

_Imelda washed her face and brushed her hair before pulling her nightgown off. She quickly dressed in a purple dress and pulled her boots on, put her hair up in a neat bun and put the purple rose behind her ear, twining the stem through her hair. She started peeling the orange as she headed down the stairs. Glancing at the clock in the kitchen she was shocked to see it was nine. Her brothers were already in school which meant her mother was in the workshop. Imelda quickly headed across the small courtyard where she could hear the whirl of the sewing machines._

_Popping another orange slice in her mouth as she entered the shop, she saw her mother leaning over the sewing machine while Imelda’s Tía Leticia was bent over the table mending a pink dress. “Buenos dias,” Imelda greeted going over to the pile of orders that were still waiting. She pulled out a delicate looking blue dress._

_“Buenos dias sobrina,” Tía Leticia greeted with a small smile. Mamá stopped working and looked up at Imelda._

_“Sleeping the day away mija?” Mamá asked eyeing Imelda. She shook her head with a sigh. “We’re so busy today.”_

_“Lo siento Mamá, I was tired,” Imelda apologized spreading the dress out. Mamá gasped causing Imelda to drop the fabric out of her hands._

_“Cuidado! You know how I feel about you eating in here!” Mamá warned. Imelda looked at her orange sitting a foot away from the fabric. “I don’t want to have to repair another item. Not after what your brothers did with that varnish and the silverware the other day!”_

_Imelda put the last few orange slices on a small towel on the table behind her. “Sorry Mamá, I forgot.”_

_Mamá shook her head again. “You’ve been awful forgetful the past few days Imeldita, what has gotten into you?” Imelda shrugged and smoothed the dress out again before pulling her sewing needle out._

_“That’s a beautiful rose Imelda,” Tía Leticia spoke up as she pulled the thread through the fabric gently. Imelda froze and felt the blush cross her cheeks, thankfully she was holding the fabric up and no one could see her face. “I think I’ve seen those exact roses in Señora Ortiz’s garden.” Imelda wrinkled her nose, of course Héctor would steal it from someone’s yard._

_“It’s your favorite color,” Mamá noted, “Where did you get it?” Imelda cleared her throat and put the dress down but she couldn’t help but feel the goofy grin cross her lips easily. When she looked up finally both her Mamá and Tía were staring at her closely. “Mija! You’re blushing! It’s from a boy isn’t it?” Imelda huffed and tried her best to ignore their pointed stares. Mamá clapped joyfully. “I knew something had to be going on! You aren’t that forgetful mija! Some boy has turned your head! Let’s see, the rose is from Señora Ortiz’s garden, could it be her grandson Alberto Reyes? That boy is a fine boy! He would make a good match.”_

_Imelda ignored her mother’s speculation. “Aren’t we supposed to be getting these orders together Mamá?”_

_Mamá waved her hand in the air. “They will get done, please tell me more about Alberto. Is it serious?” Imelda laughed out loud._

_“Mamá, I’m not courting Alberto Reyes,” Imelda rebuffed. Tía Leticia smirked and let out a low chuckle. Imelda glanced at her suspiciously. She knew her Tía knew something, Tía Leticia wasn’t the type of person to be amused by much. But seeing Imelda with a boy, now that would be the highlight of her week._

_“I think someone else has turned her head dear sister,” Tía Leticia spoke eyeing Imelda. Imelda clenched her jaw and snapped the dress in the air annoyed. Whatever her Tía knew, it couldn’t be much. She never went anywhere except to and from the shop, maybe the Plaza on weekends to do her shopping. Imelda froze, the Plaza!_

_“Who could be better than Alberto Reyes? I hear he wants to be a doctor, how wonderful,” Mamá breathed dreamily. Imelda grimaced, she couldn’t tell her. Her mother had aspirations for her. Aspirations that Imelda wasn’t so sure she even wanted. Her mother was always trying to pair her with boys she believed were perfect for Imelda. Boys that Imelda had no desire to talk to let alone marry._

_“There is no one Mamá! No boy to speak of,” Imelda responded gruffly._

_Tía Leticia shook her head. “Then why are there talks of you being seen in the company of that musician, the Rivera boy.” Imelda felt like her heart had just been squeezed beneath her ribcage. She glared at her Tía who busied herself with her mending. Mamá’s face shone confusion as she tried to place ‘Rivera’. When it was upon her, her face went from wonder to dismay._

_“Héctor Rivera?” she asked, “That orphan boy that plays the guitar?”_

_Imelda pulled away from glaring at her Tía and then sighed at her mother. “Does that even matter?”_

_Mamá shook her head furiously. “No, that boy is no good for you Imeldita. A musician? What are you thinking? You know how musicians are.”_

_Imelda scowled. “And just how are musicians? You don’t even know Héctor, Mamá.”_

_“And you do mija? Musicians are bad news, they are irresponsible and have no outlook on life except to be tonto and lazy, running around on women. Thinking they’ll all become some big mariachi. How could he provide for you as a musician? How could he take care of you?” Mamá asked._

_Imelda furrowed her brow and kept sewing. “Héctor and I haven’t been seeing each other long Mamá. We are nowhere near thinking about a future together.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Imelda knew she had said the wrong thing._

_“You’ve been seeing each other? For how long?” Mamá asked incredulously._

_“A few weeks,” Imelda confessed. She touched the rose delicately. She smiled thinking of Héctor and her the night before, his hands on her back and hips as they kissed in the shadows of her home. The love struck grin washed off her face seeing her mother’s fiery eyes._

_“You love him.” Imelda’s romantic thoughts popped. Mamá stood in front of her, arms crossed, disappointment all over her face. Imelda couldn’t hide it, she did, she loved him but she wasn’t telling her mother that. Mamá huffed and slammed her hand against the table frustrated. Imelda scowled._

_“If you got to know him, I’m sure you would see what I like about him,” Imelda offered. “He could have dinner with us. Héctor is a wonderful man, Mamá.” Imelda could see her mother rankle at the mention of Héctor as a man instead of a boy. Mamá went back to her machine, ignoring Imelda’s offer of dinner._

_Imelda sighed and went back to her mending. The room was quiet for a few moments and Imelda wondered if her mother was going to say anything else. Imelda popped the last orange slice in her mouth and chewed silently, the sweet juice tingling on her tongue._

_“Bring him to dinner.” Imelda looked up at Mamá in disbelief. Her back was still turned away from Imelda. Imelda smiled. At least this was a start._

***

Imelda’s thoughts popped upon hearing voices outside the room. Her heart raced as she recognized Héctor’s voice, the laughter in it. She smiled and sat on his bed. The key in the lock turned and the door opened. Ernesto stepped through first, the shock on his face as he noticed her sitting on the bed. And then, Héctor poked his head over Ernesto’s shoulder and the disbelief on his face was enough for Imelda. She stood and smiled graciously.

“Imelda?” he asked. She watched as he pushed past Ernesto, making the larger man stumble into the door. Héctor’s face broke out in the biggest smile Imelda had ever seen. He pulled her into his arms and Imelda felt her tension fade effortlessly. What had she been so worried about? “What are you doing here?” 

She smiled feeling the overwhelming sense to make sure he was all right fade into uncontrollable happiness. She couldn’t tell him the real reason, not yet, not when they had an audience. “I came to see you, _sorpresa!_ ” she replied. Héctor laughed happily and kissed her tenderly almost as if he wasn’t sure if she was real or not. 

“This was quite the surprise mi amor,” Héctor replied once they pulled away. He placed his forehead against hers admiring her, the sweet loving smile hadn’t left his lips yet. Imelda couldn’t help but feel all the emotion from the night before he left melt away into undeniable love for him. Relief flooded her body seeing he was healthy and well and there was no girl attached to him. “I’m so happy to see you.” 

“ _Yo también_.” Imelda smiled and pulled away noticing Ernesto had not moved from the doorway. “Hola Ernesto,” she greeted. 

“Nesto?” Héctor asked the joy evident in his voice. “Isn’t this great! You knew how much I missed her and now here she is!” Héctor ignored Ernesto’s stunned expression as he turned back to Imelda. “I was just getting ready to send you another letter, but I guess there’s no need for that!” 

Imelda smiled. “Good because I miss hearing from you. That’s why I came, I was worried.” Héctor knitted his eyebrows together. The confusion was apparent on his face. 

“Worried? About me?” he asked. “Why?”

Imelda watched as Ernesto closed the door and slunk inside slowly. Imelda stared back at Héctor’s puzzlement. “Because I haven’t heard from you in two weeks.” 

Héctor looked mystified. “Did you not receive my letters? I’ve been sending one every couple of days.” Imelda was shocked, where had they gone then? Héctor turned to look at Ernesto who had settled at the small table. “I thought you said you dropped them at the post office.”

Ernesto nodded assertively. “I have, seems to me the post master is to blame for the missing letters.” Imelda watched Ernesto carefully. He put on a congenial warm smile. “It is good to see you however Imelda, poor Héctor here, I was about to think I’d lost my partner! He missed you so much he couldn’t think straight. I think after this short visit it will help him with his focus.”

Héctor chuckled uncomfortably. “My focus, right.” Imelda looked at Héctor. He smiled tightly and Imelda wondered what was going on. There was something Héctor wasn’t saying, wasn’t telling her and the fact he didn’t seem to tell Ernesto worried Imelda. If there was any other person who knew Héctor better than she, it was Ernesto. Héctor told Ernesto everything. They were best friends. 

Ernesto stood and put his hands on Héctor and Imelda’s shoulders. “Well now, it seems that I should let the two of you get reacquainted. I must say it’s a good thing we don’t have a show tonight, I’m not sure you could concentrate! I’ll make myself scarce for the evening, seems I could find a señorita to melt away my lonely heart.” Héctor rolled his eyes and shook his head but the smile was evident on his face. Imelda watched as Ernesto smirked at her. 

“My amigos,” he said gently before removing his hands. Imelda froze, her heart beating wildly in her chest. _That voice. My amigos. You understand this had to be done, I’m sorry amigo._ She felt her skin crawl with the familiar words of that nightmare. Ernesto. He was the voice she recognized but couldn’t place. Dread gripped Imelda like a vice.

Imelda watched as Ernesto smiled at them, picked up his jacket and headed out of the room. Imelda looked back at Héctor, a tender smile on his lips as he reached for her. Imelda took his hand, his calloused fingers familiar and loving. She sighed happily, relieved that she was here, she was with him, which was all that mattered. She had missed him dearly and she wanted nothing than to spend the night in his arms. 

“Mi alma, I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Héctor murmured pulling her towards him, Imelda fell into his embrace. She felt Héctor’s lips kiss her neck and she shivered. “I missed you so much.” 

Imelda opened her eyes and stared at Héctor’s shoulder. “I missed you too mi amor.” She pulled away and smiled at him despite the nagging feeling of Ernesto in the back of her mind. “Come now, we must catch up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I'm looking forward to chapter four. :)


	4. Until You're in My Arms Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been my favorite chapter to write so far. Lots of Imector fluff. I hope you enjoy!

“How is Coco?” Héctor asked as they sat on the bed, his hands hadn’t left Imelda’s since they were joined. Imelda smiled thinking of their daughter. How much she already missed her and she hadn’t been gone a day.

“She’s wonderful, getting so big,” Imelda answered. Héctor smiled sadly. “She misses her Papá more than anything.” 

“Ay, I miss her too,” Héctor replied. “I save all her drawings. I love the one of her dancing to me playing guitar. She’s a beautiful artist.”

Imelda murmured her agreement as Héctor reached for the said picture. “She is quite that, get’s it from her Papá.” 

Héctor smiled. He looked at Imelda; her face looked tired, strained even. Dark circles under her eyes made her look sleep deprived. It looked as if these past few months had taken such a toll on her. His letters must not have comforted her as well as he thought. He hated himself for this, knowing he did this to her. He knew she had been working hard on her fledgling business and raising a rambunctious toddler all while dealing with a husband who wasn’t home. Héctor’s stomach burned, he shouldn’t have left.

Imelda grinned sadly at him as she placed Coco’s drawing down. She took a deep breath, “Héctor-”

“Imelda,” he interrupted, “ _Lo siento_ , for everything mi alma. I don’t think I can say that enough.” Imelda watched him, her eyes widening a little in surprise. “I’m a terrible person.” 

“ _Por qué_? Why would you say that?” Imelda asked tightening her grip on his hand. Héctor sighed and looked at their hands. 

“Because I left you, I left Coco. I left our life Imelda. What kind of a man does that to his _familia_?” Imelda felt her mouth part a little in sadness as Héctor looked on in utter grief. “I made the wrong choice.”

“No, you didn’t, you made the choice that you thought was best. You were trying to provide for us, you were trying to reach your dream. I was the horrible _esposa_ who tried to tell her husband what to do. I tried to tell you what you wanted wasn’t important.” Héctor frowned as Imelda wrapped her arm around him. “Music is your life; I won’t take that from you. If this is what you want-”

Héctor squeezed his eyes closed in frustration. “This isn’t what I want!” Imelda swallowed hard as Héctor looked at her seriously. “I want you, I want Coco. I want a life in Santa Cecilia. A life where we can be together. You have no idea how much I’ve missed our life.” He leaned into Imelda and pulled her close to him, breathing in her scent of lavender and mint along with what he always believed sunshine to smell like. “I was going to come home.”

Imelda pulled away, the surprised looked on her face told Héctor she definitely wasn’t expecting that. “What do you mean? You were going to leave to come home?”

“Si, I was going to leave after we finished here in Mexico City. I was going to come home to you and Coco. Apologize, make things better, live a meaningful life with you.” Imelda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Héctor continued, “But, I wasn’t going to give up on music. I was going to try to find a way to provide for us with music at home. I even thought about going up to Señor Ramirez and buying the music shop from him, make him an offer that he couldn’t refuse.” Imelda smiled a little at his determination. Héctor’s smile waned as he went on. “I’m not giving up playing though, I love it too much, I love music. I still want to play in the plaza for people, people who actually care about what they’re listening to. I can’t give up performing mi amor.” 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Imelda responded. “Music is you, without it you wouldn’t be yourself. I would never ask you to give up on it.” 

Héctor nodded. “I thought I would want to play for the world, me and Ernesto just performing and enjoying it every day. But, I soon learned that I was loco for thinking that’s what I wanted. Train rides and numerous inns, performing in seedy cantina’s for measly pay, missing you and Coco every day more and more that it grew into resentment towards myself. I felt so guilty Melda, guilty for leaving you to raise our daughter, guilty for leaving Coco and missing her growing, guilty for not being there, giving Coco hugs and playing with her, guilty for not kissing you every day, telling you how much I love you, how hermosa you are. What kind of life is this to be on the road hoping someone would discover you? Believing in the false promise of fame and fortune? It’s sickening. I don’t care if complete strangers like my songs or want to listen to me. I only care about my family’s feelings, how I look in their eyes.” 

Imelda felt the lump of sadness in her throat as she watched Héctor commiserate over his life choices. Héctor let out a shuddering sigh, Imelda could tell he was fighting back tears. “I don’t want to be a disappointment to you. I wanted to prove your mamá wrong.” 

Imelda’s chest burned in anger at those words, not towards her sweet husband but towards her _insolente_ mother. Imelda reached up and turned Héctor’s face to look at her. His face was solemn, it broke Imelda’s heart. “Héctor Rivera, you are not a disappointment to me and you never will be. You have proven my mother wrong from the day you married me. You are the most generous, wonderful, caring man I have ever met. You have done nothing but take care of me and Coco. I love you, so much mi amor, and I will never love anyone as much as I love you. You made a choice that you believed was right and as much as in the moment I was so angry at it, I supported you, I trusted your decisions.” Héctor grinned slightly through his woe. “What?” 

“ _Estupendo_ , you were angry at me,” he mumbled playfully. “How is that any different than any other day of the week?” 

Imelda chuckled ridiculously. “ _Idiota_ , we were angry at each other.” Héctor chuckled. “But I’m not angry anymore. I just want you home.”

Héctor laughed. “I want to come home, _créeme_.” Imelda kissed his lips gently, smiling against them. Héctor pulled away after a moment and looked at her curiously. “You said you hadn’t gotten my letters?”

“I had, at least the first few. I haven’t received a letter from you in two weeks,” Imelda responded knitting her eyebrows together. That wasn’t right, Héctor thought. He shook his head.

“No, I’ve sent you at least four letters in the last two weeks. I gave them to Ernesto; he said he would drop them at the post office. He told me he handed them directly to the post master,” Héctor recalled. “There must be some mix up; we can go to the post office. See if they somehow got misplaced or lost.” 

Imelda put her hand on his knee. “There’s no need for that mi amor, it’s all right. How many more times can you tell me you love me in a letter?” Héctor laughed.

“Trust me, I can go on and on about my love for you,” he responded. Imelda smiled warmly as Héctor nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “But it still makes no sense as to where they went.” 

Imelda shrugged but it still worried her too. “I’m sure they just go lost, it doesn’t matter now.” She watched as Héctor sighed heavily in wonder. She couldn’t help but feel that persistent feeling that Ernesto was involved in this. Ernesto.

She and Ernesto had never really gotten off on the right foot. It was fine when she and Héctor began spending time together, they were friendly with one another and Imelda was appreciative that Héctor had someone else, a best friend to spend time with. It wasn’t until Héctor and Imelda had made their intentions known that they were serious and in love did Ernesto not receive it well. He was always in a rotten mood if Imelda showed up at a performance or if Héctor was acting love struck around him. He would always claim to be supportive and be accepting in Héctor’s presence but Imelda could see the way Ernesto looked at her, judging, with ill contempt as if she were infringing on their friendship, their partnership. It used to be Héctor and Ernesto but with Imelda in the picture it just wasn’t the same, would never be the same. And yet, to her surprise, Ernesto was the best man at their wedding, threw them a lavish reception on his dime that touched even Imelda’s guarded heart. Imelda began to think that maybe she was in the wrong for thinking of Ernesto as uncaring towards her. But when they had Coco, Imelda could see the tiredness of this happy situation all over Ernesto’s face. It was fine to bring a wife in the mix but a child? She wasn’t ashamed of herself or unhappy for the joy that was bestowed up her and Héctor and she wasn’t going to let Ernesto bother her. 

Imelda still couldn’t help but wonder about him though. It wouldn’t surprise her if Ernesto had ulterior motives in this. He could’ve intercepted the letters, thrown them away, make her think that Héctor had forgotten them. Was he really that cruel? He wouldn’t do that to his best friend, would he? The disbelief that he would do that to Héctor made Imelda hurt. 

Imelda felt Héctor nuzzling her neck now and while she had to admit it was driving her crazy, she still needed to talk to him. “Héctor?”

“Hmm?” he asked breathily, his face still against Imelda’s neck. She sighed and pushed up on his chest gently to make him look at her. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” she pointed out as she grinned, “I still want to talk.” 

He snickered. “There’s always time for talk later mi amor. Having you this close to me is driving me loco.” Imelda grinned as Héctor wrapped his arms around her tightly, his right hand running up her back, his left settling just under her breast. Imelda shivered slightly as Héctor kissed her neck and then down to her collarbone. 

“What if Ernesto comes back?” Imelda asked as Héctor reached up and pulled her hair down from its bun. It felt down her back gently, Héctor running his fingers through it.

Héctor chuckled gently. “He left the key on the table and the door can be locked.” Imelda smiled as his warm breath tickled her ear. She turned her head towards his and it was evident on Héctor’s face, he needed her. “Por favor mi alma, _te necesito_.”

Imelda smiled as she stood up and locked the door. When she turned, Héctor had thrown back the blanket and sheet off the bed haphazardly. He was frantically tugging at his boots and lost his footing to fall back on the bed with a thump. Imelda laughed. 

“You’re ridiculous Rivera,” she commented climbing up on the bed and straddling him. Héctor grinned up at her. 

“Ay, you make me this way. Remember, you married me,” he pointed out running his hands up her thighs before pulling her down on top of him. Imelda grinned as Héctor kissed her tenderly. Imelda sighed happily, she wasn’t going to deny that she didn’t want this as well; she missed him, his closeness, his touch, and the way he held her. _Dios_ , she loved this man. 

Héctor turned them over and he rested on top of Imelda, she reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt. Imelda looked up at him as he pulled away. His brown eyes melted her. He smiled softly. “ _Te amo_ mi vida,” he murmured. 

“ _Te amo también_ ,” she murmured before Héctor’s lips touched hers again. 

As they lay there caressing, kissing, whispering words of love to one another, Imelda couldn’t help but remember the day Héctor called her that for the first time. _Mi vida_.

***

_“Lo siento Héctor, I am so, so sorry about everything today,” Imelda apologized profusely. Héctor pulled her into his arms and shushed her gently. “My mother is a terrible person.”_

_“Hey, it’s all right Imelda, it wasn’t that bad,” he tried to placate but Imelda could hear it on his voice, he was hurt. Dinner with her mother did not go as planned._

_It was a disaster actually that ended with Héctor leaving prematurely and Imelda getting into a shouting match with her mother. Her mother actually had the nerve to call Héctor a good for nothing músico who was not good enough for her sweet Imeldita. Imelda had never been so humiliated or mortified in her life. Her mother hadn’t even bothered to get to know Héctor; she just began making assumptions that were so inaccurate it made Imelda infuriated. Poor Oscar and Felipe just hung their heads in silence, they didn’t even make a peep and they were excited and teasing Imelda all day about her novio._

_“It was horrible Héctor! I cannot believe her! She is loco! She just went about making assumptions that you were a good for nothing person! She’s accusing you of not being good enough for me!” Imelda shouted to no one in particular. Thankfully, the plaza was mostly empty that night. Imelda was pacing, she was sure she could’ve worn a dent in the cobblestone._

_Héctor reached out and tired to stop her. “Imelda, let’s just forget about it. It’s just upsetting you and I don’t like it when you’re upset. It usually ends with someone getting hurt or their head torn off.” Imelda stopped pacing and her face softened seeing him. He looked on desperately._

_“I feel awful,” she murmured. Héctor shook his head trying to make it seem like it rolled off his shoulders._

_“No need to feel awful, you know how I am,” Héctor responded, “You know the real me. Why should it matter what your mother thinks?” Imelda widened her eyes slightly. He was right, why did it matter what her mother thought? He made her happy and that was enough._

_She sighed and sat next to him on the wall. She felt his arm go around her waist and she leaned into him. She stared off in the distance and smiled. “You know, if my Papá were here, he would love you.”_

_Héctor laughed exaggeratedly. “I don’t believe you.”_

_“It’s true! He loved musicians, loved singing, he told me once that he had always dreamed of becoming a musician but as the only boy in his family he had to take over the business. My abuelo wouldn’t let him pursue anything else. But, Papá had no regrets. He would’ve put my mother in her place tonight.” Imelda sighed sadly. “I miss him.”_

_Héctor hugged her tightly against him and placed a kiss on her head. “I know you do.”_

_Imelda narrowed her eyes in annoyance again. “My mother doesn’t know anything about my life, what’s important, who I care for. She has no right to tell me otherwise. I can be with who I choose.”_

_“And you chose me,” Héctor wondered. Imelda peered up at him, his hair fluttering gently in the breeze. “I still can’t believe it some days.”_

_Imelda leaned up and kissed his cheek gently. “I will always choose you Héctor.” Héctor smiled gently. Imelda sighed, the overwhelming feeling of telling him just how she felt was burgeoning to escape. She wanted to tell him over and over again how much she loved him. How much he filled her heart with joy every day._

_Héctor pulled up from Imelda making her lose her balance slightly. “What’s wrong?”_

_Héctor turned to look at her, his expression worried Imelda slightly. He looked so serious, deep even, an expression that Héctor rarely displayed. Héctor took her hands and kissed each gently before looking back at her so tenderly that Imelda just wanted to pull him into her arms. “Imelda, I love you.”_

_Imelda couldn’t believe it, she gasped gladly. Héctor looked down at their hands. “You don’t have to say it back, especially if you aren’t ready but I wanted you to know how I felt. It’s been held inside of me for weeks, maybe even months. I think I’ve loved you since I saw you here in the plaza that day. It was like my life was suddenly put in front of me.”_

_Imelda looked at him astonished. “You’re what?” Even in the darkness, Imelda could tell he was blushing upon realizing what he said. “Did you say your life? Are you calling me tu vida?”_

_Héctor cleared his throat and laughed a little nervously. Imelda watched as he gripped his right wrist with his left hand, a moved he only did when nervous. “Well, uh, I suppose I am.” Imelda couldn’t help but smile in sheer wonderment. Héctor grinned seeing her delighted face. “You are mi vida Imelda.”_

_Imelda threw her arms around him startling Héctor who yelped in response as he tried to balance them out. “Ay, Héctor, I love you too. I love you so much.”_

_“Y-you do?” Héctor asked in disbelief. Imelda nodded against him as Héctor laughed ecstatically before he belted out a loud grito that caused the few people in the plaza to stare at them. Imelda laughed as she pulled away and Héctor kissed her face and lips passionately. “Ay, mi amor, I’ve been dying to hear you say those words.”_

_Imelda smiled as she held Héctor’s face in her hands. “Me too mi amor, I love you so much. I want nothing more than to have you in my life always.” Héctor grinned and kissed her passionately._

_“Mi vida,” he murmured nuzzling his nose against hers before kissing her again._

***

“We could leave tomorrow night,” Héctor murmured, his arms holding Imelda in a strong familiar embrace against his bare chest. Imelda’s hand was cupping his hand and Héctor played with her fingers as if he were playing his guitar. She felt his goatee brush against her shoulder as he molded himself around her protectively, their legs intertwined underneath the covers. 

“Tomorrow?” Imelda asked, “Why not tonight?” 

Héctor sighed and Imelda could tell there was another discussion to be had. She turned in his arms to face him. Was he already regretting leaving? Did he want to finish the tour after all? Héctor pulled his head back and looked into her eyes. “I haven’t told Ernesto I’m leaving yet.”

Imelda raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I just haven’t found the right time,” Héctor stated. Imelda looked at him pointedly. Héctor tried to find the words to say. “He’s been dreaming of this for a long time and he thinks this is what I still want too. When I tell him, he’s going to be angry with me.”

“And?” Imelda asked, “Héctor, he’ll get over it. He’s a grown man; he can do this by himself if he really wants it. Ernesto is your best friend; he should support you in whatever you want.” 

“Si, he should and I know in the end he will but, telling him is going to start an argument that I really wasn’t looking forward to having.” Imelda sighed and frowned. “Ernesto isn’t like me, he doesn’t want to stay in Santa Cecilia and perform for the town. He wants to perform for the world, who do you think _The World es Mi Familia_ is for?” Héctor took a deep breath. “I do need to tell him. It’ll have to be tomorrow, he won’t come back tonight, knowing you’re here he’s going to give us time together. That’s why we can’t leave until tomorrow night.” 

Imelda nodded and with a sneaky smile said, “And so you can perform one more time?” He gave a look of mock surprise.

“No, what made you think that?” he asked. Imelda poked his ribs and he yelped. “Just one more time, just to say goodbye.”

“I guess I can’t say no to that,” she agreed. He smiled and looked at her, Imelda could tell a thought was rolling across his mind. “What?”

“Please tell me you didn’t leave our daughter in the care of your brothers,” he commented. Imelda rolled her eyes upward to avoid eye contact. “Ay, Imelda, if I get home and one hair on that _preciosa_ head is out of place I will kill your brothers.” 

“ _Relajarse_ mi amor, no harm will come to Coco. Besides, if we get home and our daughter or my shop is out of sorts I will kill my estúpido brothers myself!” Imelda promised. Héctor kissed her bare shoulder gently. 

“Ay, I’ve missed this so much,” Héctor commented. She watched as he sat up and folded a few of the letters on the bedside table. “I should put these in my suitcase so I don’t forget them. I want to show Coco I received every single one of her drawings.” 

Imelda smiled. “She’ll love that.” Héctor leaned back down and kissed her. Imelda watched as he got up from the bed and pulled pants on. Imelda sat up as he turned around and smiled at her. “What?”

“I still can’t believe you’re actually here. I’ve dreamed about this almost every night,” Héctor stated. Imelda smiled. “You were worried about me?” Imelda felt her heart drop a little in her chest. She nodded slightly thinking of the dream. She couldn’t tell him yet, they had such a lovely afternoon together, and to tell him now would ruin it. Héctor took her hands and sat on the bed. “Don’t worry about me Imelda, I’m fine.” 

“I know,” she said. Imelda reached up and smoothed out his hair. He grabbed his shirt and began buttoning it. “Where are you going?” 

“Next door to the cantina for some dinner for us,” Héctor responded running his fingers through his hair undoing what Imelda had smoothed out. She shook her head in laughter. 

“I’ll get dressed and come with you,” Imelda offered throwing the blanket off of her. She watched as Héctor’s eyes lingered over her body. 

“No, no, stay in bed, I will be right back. Relax, wait for me because we are not through yet,” he flirted waggling his eyebrows, his eyes lit up with romance. Imelda giggled as Héctor kissed her again. “ _Espérame_.” 

“Siempre.” With one more smile, Héctor left and Imelda lay back on the pillows. She smiled to herself relishing the ghost like feeling of Héctor’s hands and lips on her, kissing and caressing each spot as if he hadn’t touched her in years. It sure had felt like years. 

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and noticed it was after five. The sun was beginning to set, the dimness of evening filtering in through the window. Imelda looked at the door to the small adjoining wash room and figured if they were eating she might as well clean up. Imelda got out of bed and pulled her suitcase on the bed. She pulled out a dress and slipped it on. She combed out her tangled hair but left it down around her shoulders. She pushed her suitcase under the bed and went to wash her face. 

When she came back, she noticed a few of her letters to Héctor and Coco’s drawings had fluttered to the ground. She knelt down and picked them up folding them carefully. She looked under the bed again and noticed Héctor’s suitcase wasn’t there. There was no closet in the room but there were two suitcases under Ernesto’s bed. 

Imelda recognized the suitcase that matched hers and pulled it out, Ernesto’s open case fell with a thud and some contents spilled out. Imelda grabbed the envelopes that scattered out and went to put them back in Ernesto’s bag when something caught her eye.

Her name, written in Héctor’s scratchy cursive, were on the front of these envelopes. Her heart began hammering in her chest. Imelda sat on the floor and biting her lip, looked at the envelopes which had their home address on them; they were stamped but not postmarked. Her breath began to come out in raspy shudders. Imelda felt sick to her stomach, Ernesto, he hadn’t dropped them off at all. Her hands began to shake with such furiousness that she realized she was crumpling the precious letters. 

Imelda closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Once she opened her eyes again she noticed that the letters had been opened, slit just at the top with a letter opener. Imelda looked at the contents of all four of them, the letters home were folded neatly, and left inside was the money that Héctor was sending home to them, another reason why Héctor looked so upset that the letters went missing. Imelda felt the hot tears of anger and sadness flood her eyes. Ernesto took them. He didn’t want them to reach her. Imelda felt a tear run down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly. He had done what Imelda feared.

She pulled out one letter and read the same words Héctor had been writing for awhile now. I miss you, I miss Coco, I love you both so much. He hadn’t planned on abandoning them. He loved them. He wanted them. And Ernesto…he didn’t want Héctor to want them, to need them. They weren’t a part of Ernesto’s plan. What exactly was his plan? Imelda put her hand to her mouth as another thought shook her to the core. Was Ernesto trying to make it seem like Héctor was abandoning them? It felt like it, why else would he take the letters? 

Imelda folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She gathered the remaining letters and put them in her suitcase locking it tight. She then heard the key in the lock and she shoved Ernesto’s suitcase back under the bed and quickly sat on the bed as Héctor opened the door. She smiled seeing him with two plates of food.

“Dinner is served!” he announced kicking the door closed behind him. His face fell seeing her and Imelda wondered if he noticed she had been crying. “You got dressed.” Imelda looked down at her dress and she laughed relieved. 

“Mi amor, I would be much more comfortable eating while clothed,” she confessed joining him at the table. She kissed the top of his head as he sat in the chair. “Gracias.” 

“De nada, mi amor. Dig in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are definitely going to start heating up! Next chapter should be up in a week or so. As always, thanks for reading.


	5. Leaves My Cabeza Shaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone for leaving such nice comments and reading my story. It really means a lot to me! I hope you enjoy this chapter, a little bit of Hector and Ernesto tension for your enjoyment.

For the first time in months, Héctor felt like he got a good night of sleep. It helped that nestled snugly next to him was Imelda. He couldn’t believe his luck when he awoke, her warm soft body against his. He watched her in sleep, the only time she looked truly at peace, her hair framing her face, her mouth open partly, deep breaths making her chest rise and fall steadily. He could’ve lain there all morning watching her, admiring her, feeling like he was falling in love with her over and over again. 

Yet, Héctor couldn’t stay still for long and his legs itched to get moving. He slid himself out of bed and covered Imelda up gently. He pulled on pants and a shirt before combing his hair and cleaning himself up in the wash room. His stomach grumbled and he knew hunger was settling in fast. After dinner the night before, he and Imelda talked and just enjoyed each other’s company before they ended the night breathless in each other’s arms again. He closed his eyes and grinned thinking of her against him, making love tenderly. He shivered slightly recalling the events from the night before.

Héctor tiptoed into the room again and sat at the table to pull his boots on. As he tugged on the first one he glanced at Ernesto’s empty bed. He was grateful his friend didn’t return that night before, he had told Imelda he wouldn’t come back to the room but Héctor hadn’t been too sure of that himself. It didn’t matter because after today, Ernesto would be here by himself. Dios, that reminded Héctor, he needed to talk to Ernesto. Tell him what he was doing.

Héctor felt the anxiety of the situation boil in his stomach. He had to do it. He and Ernesto had been friends, partners for so long that to up and leave without an explanation wouldn’t be a good idea, even if Héctor didn’t think it sounded bad to avoid confrontation. He blew a breath of air out of his lips and gave the air a determined nod. Yes, he was going to do this. His stomach rumbled again. 

After _desayuno_.

Héctor finished pulling on his boots and pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote a note to Imelda, telling her where he was going. He kissed her head gently, opened and closed the door, locking it behind him.

The day was growing warm already and the plaza was getting crowded with people setting up their carts and stalls, shops were opening their doors for the day. Héctor stopped at a fruit stall getting two oranges and some other fruit before moving on to another stand to find something else for breakfast for the two of them.

As Héctor found a stall selling _huevos divorciados_ , he noticed Ernesto coming out of another _posada_. Héctor gave him a small smile and a wave as Ernesto came over to him.

“Buenos dias Nesto, I take it you had a good night out?” Héctor asked stepping out of line. 

Ernesto pulled at his jacket to straighten it. “The best night on tour yet! And I imagine you and Imelda had a joyous reunion?” 

Héctor felt his face warm a little. He scratched his nose. “Of course we did. Gracias, by the way, letting us have the room to ourselves.”

“Anything for mi amgo, I cannot deny you the pleasure of a good woman!” Ernesto stated clapping Héctor on the back. Héctor grimaced.

“She’s not just any woman Ernesto, she is my wife,” Héctor corrected him. 

“And where is she?” Ernesto asked looking around for Imelda. 

“Still sleeping, I came to get breakfast.” Héctor held up the small pouch with the fruit. “Just getting some huevos.”

“Bueno, I could use some food too,” Ernesto said pulling Héctor back in line with him. “So, how long is Imelda staying? She does know we’re leaving for Puebla City in two days right?” Héctor looked at the person in front of him. He didn’t want to have this conversation here but it felt like it was going to have to happen now. He didn’t want to bring this back to the room, bringing Imelda into it.

“She does Nesto,” Héctor replied. He turned to face his friend. “Listen, I wanted to tell you something.” Héctor could tell the wheels in Ernesto’s mind had started twirling. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking but Héctor knew by the discouraging look on Ernesto’s face, Ernesto was speculating how bad this would be.

“Is Imelda expecting again?” Ernesto asked. Héctor’s eyes widened and he lost his breath.

“What? No! No, nothing like that,” he stumbled out, “Imelda isn’t pregnant.” 

“Then what? Is there a reason she came all the way from Santa Cecilia to see you?” Ernesto asked crossing his arms in front of him. 

“What? Besides that she missed me?” Héctor asked with a self-deprecating smile. “I know, I can hardly believe it myself!” Ernesto chuckled and shook his head at his friend’s joke. “Actually, Imelda came because she was worried about me. Because she hadn’t heard from me in a few weeks since my letters got lost and all.” 

Ernesto nodded looking straight ahead, a slight murmur of understanding left his mouth. Héctor sighed before going on.

“I’m really glad she came though because…I really missed her,” Héctor stated. He snuck a look at Ernesto who remained unchanged. “You knew that already though because it’s all I’ve been talking about-”

“Elaborately and plentifully.” Héctor gave Ernesto a sidelong glance. 

“Anyway,” Héctor went on, “I had been thinking Ernesto, over the last few weeks about her and Coco and my life at home. You know I didn’t leave on the best terms with Imelda and I felt like I let her down. I know she would’ve supported me with any decision I made and she did, despite how angry she was and how determined I was to do this. But, over the last few weeks I’ve come to realize something.” 

Héctor could tell he had Ernesto’s interest now; his friend looked at him interestedly. Héctor smiled. “I want to go home.” 

Ernesto stared at him for a moment and then chuckled. “You are going to go home, when the tour is over.” He shook his head at Héctor, as if to take this as a joke. 

Héctor laughed uncomfortably. “Ah, no, I’m going home with Imelda. Tonight.” 

Ernesto’s jaunty smile fell from his thick jaw. He closed his eyes shaking his head gently. “Lo siento, what did you say?” 

Héctor shifted a little, he felt his confidence growing by the second. “I’m going home tonight after the performance.” 

“Good joke Héctor,” Ernesto replied through clenched teeth. 

“I’m not joking Nesto, I’m leaving tonight.” Héctor felt the weight lifted off of him but it seemed like it had been thrown on Ernesto’s shoulders. He looked bogged down with bemusement. “I’ve wanted to go home for weeks. This life isn’t for me. Touring and performing every night. I have a family back home that is counting on me to be there for them. I can’t do that if I’m never there.” 

Ernesto ran his hands over his temples and then through his hair, pulling slightly on the end of it. “Is this your decision or your wife’s?”

Héctor crossed his arms defensively. “Why would you assume its Imelda’s?”

“Because ever since you’ve met her, you haven’t been able to think straight amigo.” Ernesto gasped in frustration. “You are honestly telling me that she didn’t have a guiding force in this decision?” 

Héctor felt the anger bubble inside of him heating his blood. “Don’t you dare say that! You know that I have to consider her in this too. She’s my wife, we have a daughter. I can’t only think about myself. You have no idea how much I miss being with them. I thought that this is what I wanted, being able to play music for the world, getting the chance to be something. But I slowly realized I was kidding myself. What I want is to be the best husband and father I could be for them. I need them and they need me.” 

“And what we have doesn’t matter?” Ernesto asked. Héctor sighed and pulled Ernesto out of the line, this was easier to discuss when Héctor was sure twenty different people weren’t listening to them. 

“Nesto, you’ve been my best friend for years and we’ve had a really good partnership. We still can be partners,” Héctor explained. Ernesto shook his head furiously.

“How? How are we going to be a musical partnership when one of us is touring the world and the other is stuck making shoes for a living?” Ernesto degraded. Héctor felt his fists clenching at his sides, his pulse beating against his neck. 

“I can still play with you in local gigs, whenever you do come home, but I can’t leave my girls home alone for months on end. Not knowing when I’m going to kiss my wife again, missing my daughter growing up. And if we have more children, the chance of missing their birth, their milestones?” Héctor asked.

“More children?” Ernesto asked alarmed, his voice an octave higher as if Héctor was selling his soul.

“Come on Nesto, I love Imelda and Coco and my life in Santa Cecilia,” Héctor said softer. “I want to be able to be with my family, give Coco brothers or sisters. I never had a true family growing up, my father didn’t care about me, my mother died when I was young and I lived with my aging tio and tia until they were gone too. Imelda and you have been my true familia. I don’t understand why you can’t be supportive of my decisions.” 

“And I’m sure your wife is just fine with you abandoning music.” Héctor shook his head angrily.

“Why would you assume I’m abandoning music? I’m never giving up on it, I’ll keep writing, singing, performing in town at the plaza.” Héctor sighed closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose annoyed. “Imelda doesn’t want me to give up music; we both know I love it too much to let that go.” 

“So you sing in the plaza for a few pieces of money. How will that support the familia?” Ernesto asked. 

“Mira, I’m doing what I want, what I think is best. I’m leaving tonight, I’m going home. That is that,” Héctor stated firmly. “You can either stand beside me in the decision or…we just part ways as old friends. I’m not asking you to give up on this because I am. I know you want this amigo.” 

Ernesto clenched his jaw and rubbed his temple. Héctor looked away in disparaging annoyance. If Ernesto wanted to get mad, he could get mad, Héctor was firm in his decision making. 

“Fine.” 

Héctor looked at Ernesto, baffled. “Really?” he asked doubtfully. 

“Si, I know you’ve been miserable my friend,” Ernesto mourned. “If this is what you want…”

“It is what I want Ernesto,” Héctor affirmed. Ernesto sighed and put his hands on Héctor’s shoulders, he smiled small.

“Then I won’t stand in your way,” Ernesto stated unwavering. “You go home, be with your wife, I can’t stop you, even if I tried.” Ernesto’s eyes bore into Héctor, making Héctor a little uncomfortable, unsure. He nodded trying to comfort his uneasiness. He knew Ernesto would have his back.

“Bueno,” Héctor breathed. “Trust me Ernesto. I know what I’m doing.” 

Ernesto shook Héctor a little playfully. “As long as you think so Héctor.” 

They both got back in line for breakfast but Héctor couldn’t shake the prickly feeling of apprehension in this conversation. It eerily reminded Héctor of when he told Ernesto he was going to marry Imelda. The look on Ernesto’s face was the same. It was as if Héctor had made the wrong decision when Héctor knew deep in his heart that it was the right one.

***

_Héctor pushed open the door to Señor Ramierez’s shop, the bell above the door ringing. Ernesto looked up from his stool behind the counter. He looked bored out of his mind until he saw Héctor._

_“Ay, you’re the first person to come in since I started my shift. You would think with the Dia de Muertos celebrations there would be more people coming in to have their instruments tuned or cleaned before tonight,” Ernesto stated. Héctor leaned against the counter and smiled._

_“Sorry for your boredom,” he responded. “I’m glad I’m off today.”_

_“At least there is tonight, playing in the plaza for the talent show. You better bring your best amigo,” Ernesto stated straightening the blank sheet paper on the countertop._

_“Don’t worry Nesto, we got this. We’ll win that talent show tonight.” Héctor did a little jig out of happiness, the decision he made earlier in the day dancing through his mind. A big decision. Héctor was nervous about it but he knew it would all work out._

_Ernesto eyed his friend. “What are you so happy about?”_

_“What? I can’t be having a good day? Playing in the talent show tonight, spending the evening with mi carina, dancing in the plaza. That is if her mama will let her get out of the house tonight,” Héctor stated with a smile, his heart skipping a beat thinking of Imelda._

_They had been together for almost six months now. He had never met anyone like her; he loved her with all of his heart. Imelda drew something out of him that he couldn’t put his finger on. Since he had been with her, his songwriting had been plentiful, full of life and enjoyment. She was his muse, definitely._

_Ernesto chuckled. “Mi amigo, you are the true romantic. Is this girl as loco about you as you are of her?”_

_“Absolutely Nesto, we love one another. We really love each other.” Ernesto shook his head making Héctor sigh deeply. If there was one thing Ernesto didn’t understand, it was how in love he was with Imelda. Ernesto liked girls for short periods, spending the night with them, go out on dates, making them fall for him during a performance but love was foreign territory for him. Why fall in love with one girl and when all the girls in the world could fall in love with you?_

_Héctor sighed grinning a little bit. He hadn’t told anyone but Ernesto was his best friend, he deserved to know. After all, who was going to be his best man?_

_“Actually, I wanted to tell you something,” Héctor said leaning against the counter again, barely able to contain his excitement. Ernesto barely looked up at him as he murmured his response to signify he was listening. Héctor took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m going to ask Imelda to marry me.”_

_He watched Ernesto freeze. “Nesto, isn’t this great?” Ernesto finally looked up at Héctor and his reaction wasn’t what Héctor envisioned. He looked taken aback, stunned at this revelation._

_“You’re going to get married?” Ernesto asked._

_Héctor widened his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I mean, not yet. I haven’t even asked Imelda. And I really should ask her mother’s permission first. I’m not sure how that will go but- yes, I want to get married to her. I love her.”_

_“And you’re sure this is what you want?” Ernesto asked incredulously. Héctor nodded._

_“Si, more than anything.”_

_“More than music?” Héctor felt his heart flutter. Months ago his answer would’ve always been music was his first love. But since he stumbled into Imelda’s life he could easily say that while he loved music, she was his true love._

_“Well, yes, actually. But, Imelda supports me, she knows I want to be a musician and she has no misgivings about my dreams. She supports me,” Héctor assured. “We can still achieve our dream of becoming professional musicians Nesto.”_

_“How are we going to do that when you’ve got a wife?” Ernesto asked, “Someone you have to support?”_

_“I can support her just fine by performing. And when we make it big, I’ll be able to buy her the nicest house in Santa Cecilia.” Héctor smiled happily at the scenario._

_“And if children come along? How are you going to achieve success with a crying baby at home?” Ernesto asked. Héctor could tell Ernesto was getting more and more irritated with the situation._

_Héctor shrugged. “I’m not thinking about children right now Ernesto. Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?”_

_“How is this a smart idea Héctor?” Ernesto asked, “Getting married, staying in Santa Cecilia, having to give up music one of these days. You know it will happen!” Héctor stiffened his upper lip and glared at Ernesto. How dare Ernesto make assumptions about his life, the life he wanted to create with Imelda._

_“I’ve made my decision. I love her and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I’m going to ask her to be my wife,” Héctor answered. His face fell sadly. “I just want your support. You’re my best friend.”_

_Héctor watched Ernesto silently, his eyebrows knitted together trying to reach his misunderstood friend. Ernesto sighed. “You won’t give up on music. Even if she demands you to?”_

_Héctor laughed ridiculously. “I swear, Imelda is not going to demand I give up music. I promise.” Héctor stuck his hand out to shake Ernesto’s. Ernesto looked at his hand and sighed shaking it. A small pacifying smile on his lips._

_“Felicidades mi amigo. If this is what you want, who I am to stop you?” Ernesto asked. Héctor grinned as Ernesto came around._

_“That’s all I ask.”_

***

Although on the outside, the mood seemed pleasant between the two friends, Héctor couldn’t help feel something was off as they headed back to the posada. Their conversation didn’t leave him comforted about Ernesto’s feelings. For someone who wanted this chance to tour so badly, he expected Ernesto to hurl insults at him the whole way back to the posada, make him feel guilty. Ernesto had been suspiciously quiet, unnerving Héctor immensely. Going back to the room another thought popped into his mind. Héctor hoped that Imelda was awake and dressed before they arrived, he knew she would be upset if they walked in on her. 

Héctor pulled the key out and turned to Ernesto. “Let me go in first, just to make sure Imelda is decent.” 

“A true gentleman,” Ernesto quipped. Héctor grinned tightly and unlocked the door easing it open slowly.

Imelda was sitting on the bed, cross legged wearing a yellow dress that reminded Héctor of sunshine. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and her eyes held something that stuck Héctor. She looked worried. He felt that overwhelming surge of happiness as she smiled at him however. “Buenos dias mi amor,” she greeted as Héctor opened the door wider. 

“Buenos dias mi alma, I brought us some _desayuno_!” he stated holding up the food. He stepped inside and Ernesto filed in behind him. “Found Nesto in the plaza, figured we could be nice and let him back to his own lodging.” 

Imelda eyed Ernesto carefully and eased into a reproachful smile. Her body language seemed to change Héctor noticed. Her relaxed stance became more rigid, the pleasurable look on her face turned cold, unmoving. Héctor just wondered if this had to do with Ernesto showing up. Perhaps she wanted more alone time with him. He grinned to himself, she didn’t have to worry about that, after tonight they would have more than enough time alone together. 

“Buenos dias Imelda,” Ernesto greeted dropping his food on the table and not waiting for Héctor and Imelda, dug into his huevos. Imelda took her food from Héctor and sat at the other chair while Héctor made himself comfortable on the bed. 

“Gracias,” she replied smiling at Héctor gratefully. Héctor took the orange out of the little pouch and handed it to her. She grinned thoughtfully, touched by his gesture. She sniffed it, it was fresh, Héctor made sure of it. 

“So,” Ernesto’s voice boomed startling Héctor and Imelda. Héctor held his chest in fright and looked at Ernesto who smiled broadly. “Imelda, I hear that Héctor will be returning home with you this evening.”

Imelda stared at Héctor who smiled a little with a nod to confirm he spoke to Ernesto. Imelda began peeling her orange and nodded.

“Si,” she said softly not making eye contact with Ernesto. Héctor eyed her uneasy stance, the way she readily ignored Ernesto. His scalp prickled at the notion. Imelda was a strong woman she was never afraid to talk to a man, especially to Ernesto. Héctor sucked the inside of his lip wondering if something had happened. But that was impossible; Ernesto and Imelda had spent only minutes with each other the day before. 

“Going home might do him some good, you know. Get him away from the road for awhile,” Ernesto replied. Imelda glanced over at Héctor and he could tell she was trying to figure out how much he told Ernesto.

“No, Nesto, you know that it’s not for awhile. I’m done with touring for good,” Héctor stated. “I’m going home to be with my _familia_.”

“But Héctor is going to play with you, one more time,” Imelda tried to reason. “He wants to, to say goodbye.” 

“To say goodbye,” Ernesto quipped, “How generous of him.”

“Nesto-”

“Shows at eight,” Ernesto reminded him. “I wouldn’t want you to miss it, seeing how it’s your last show and all.” Héctor clenched his teeth feeling that anger rise in him again. Ernesto stood and shoved his food away. “Lo siento, I’m not very hungry right now.” 

Héctor watched as Ernesto stood and left, slamming the door behind him. Imelda frowned at him and reached for his hand. 

“He’s not taking this well,” Héctor stated. Imelda stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Héctor leaned into her, leaning his head back to look into her eyes. 

“Are you regretting your decision?” Imelda asked curiously. Héctor shook his head.

“Never, I’m going home. With you,” he affirmed pulling her hand up and kissing it. He sighed dramatically. “I should go talk to him.” Imelda nodded and let him go. 

Luckily, Ernesto hadn’t gotten far and had wandered to the open lot at the end of the road. Héctor found him drumming his fingers on the stone wall gazing out in the distance. Héctor could feel the bitterness of Ernesto’s attitude from where he stood. He wanted to remain levelheaded but he just couldn’t. 

“ _Qué carajo_ Ernesto? I thought you were bueno about all this?” Héctor asked reaching his side. 

Ernesto laughed low in his throat. “I still have my hopes that one day you’ll realize what a mistake this is and want to join me on tour again.” 

Héctor closed his eyes and sighed. “Look I don’t want to argue about this. I know what I want. Mi vida is in that room.” 

Ernesto’s face reddened. “And what about this vida? What about your songs? Your performing? You are really just going to stay in Santa Cecilia wasting that talent? How could you ever be happy there?” 

“Because I’m not you Ernesto!” Héctor shouted frustrated. “I love Santa Cecilia, I could never live in a big city. I found the one girl I truly love there, our daughter was born there, my wife’s new business is there. I’m not wasting my talent by staying. Just because you can’t find happiness there don’t try to take it from me.”

“I just can’t believe you’re giving up,” Ernesto responded, “After all these years, after trying so hard to get somewhere.” A flash of desperation shot across his face. “I need you to stay.” Héctor eyed him as if he had two heads. 

“You need me?”

“We’re partners Héctor! We play off each other on stage, our guitar playing goes so well together. And it would get lonely on the road without a friend to talk to,” Ernesto stated. Héctor grimaced. “I won’t make you stay if you don’t want to but just consider it.” 

Héctor looked away feeling a tiny fledge of guilt squeeze its way in. What Ernesto stated was true; he and Nesto had a brilliant partnership. Héctor was the songwriter, the comic relief, the one to get the crowd going, he was a much more established guitar player, it just came naturally to him. Ernesto was the networker, the businessman, he would ensure they had proper payment and even got them more just by negotiating. Sure, Ernesto’s guitar playing lacked a little and he couldn’t write a song to save his life but the two of them together, they were an unstoppable force.

Héctor sighed deeply and looked back at his friend’s longing face. 

He got ready to answer when another notion burst through his thoughts. He thought of his life with Imelda, meeting her in the plaza, falling in love over music, singing and oranges, the vision of her walking down the aisle towards him, flowers in her hair, the happiness on her face as she handed him his pristine pearl white guitar, the dewy glow on her after making love, her tired face as she slipped newborn Coco into his arms. Coco. His heart ached over how much he missed her. The simplicity of a toddler. Playing games with her, drawing, playing his guitar while she danced around the room, her sweet kisses and hugs, the way he’d kiss her boo-boos, the way she fit into the crook of his arm where he’d rock her to sleep. Could she even still fit into his arm like that? 

Héctor looked at Ernesto again, the frantic look on his face, waiting for Héctor’s answer. Héctor shook his head putting his hand on Ernesto’s shoulder.

“Lo siento amigo, I’m going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I love seeing Hector sticking up for himself. This will be the last update on this story for about two weeks. I will on vacation all next week and not returning until the following week. I have another story in the works as well that I'm going to (hopefully) get posted later today or tomorrow. Again, thanks for reading!


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